What Might Have Been
by j3nnee
Summary: Written for the LJ White Collar Hurt/Comfort Advent. Day 13. Based on a prompt from TheatreGirl: Neal is a world renown artist. He comes home after a party during the holidays and finds a man on his doorstep. The man seems to know him but how does he know him? AU, H/C, Whump, GEN, mild cussing and violence.
1. Chapter 1

The evening had been a busy whirlwind event, his artwork selling (_as it always did_) for the highest bidder and for charity. It had all been made possible to support the _Children's Shelter of Manhattan_ and local food banks. The holidays were coming and not everyone was as rich or lucky as himself so why not give a little back. Considering his background, Neal Caffrey should have been a criminal, not a famous artist with portraits and landscapes in museums across the world. He should be anything except a success. He should have had a sordid past, living it large as an international thief, smart as he was, but it was those same wits that had allowed him to become a world renown artist and household name. It had taken one art teacher in High School telling him to choose between the life he had come from and the life he wanted to have. He had believed in him and it was because of that one teacher he had flourished, proud to have had a strong mentor where his late father had been absent.

Neal sighed, a tired, happily exhausted sigh of someone who had drank just enough to become tipsy but not enough to be fully drunk. He still felt warm from the _schnapps_ he'd shared with his fiancee, Ms. Sara Ellis at the charity reception. She had left the event early due to work commitments so Neal had returned home alone, taking the long way by cab, his thoughts on their relationship. There was a funny anecdote behind their meeting, a tale he liked telling because it involved _handcuffs_ and a famous portrait. Sara would always blush as he told the tale but also add in her own embellishments, most of which were true.

**()()()**

It had been just about a year ago, late September. He had been guest curating an event at the Metropolitan, moving some of his pieces onto the floor from the back when Ms Ellis… Sara, had come in with the angriest look her pretty face had ever shown. She approached him with cuffs in hand as she pushed him to the floor and manacled him to the nearest chair. He'd been surprised if anything, her pale cheeks flushed with anger, eyes flashing at him beneath dark lashes.

"I finally caught you red handed!"

He hadn't understood what she meant until she opened one of his boxes marked "_Landscapes_" and found something that wasn't his. It was a well known piece by one of the great artists: _Saint George and the Dragon_. His blue eyes had glanced between the crate and her, uncertain how that had come to be in his container. Only a few people had access to the back of the museum while he was here and her expression told him he would have to talk fast before she jumped him again.

"I promise you, Ms… I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name."

He was holding out his free hand towards her despite the chilly response, her arms crossed over her chest emphasizing her anger. She expressed a kind of bravado that she had been right to call him out despite his knowing she had the wrong man.

"Ms. Ellis… _Sterling and Bosch._ Don't try to distract me with _niceties _Mr. Hunter. I was given a tip that my client's painting would be here and here you are with the exact thing I've been searching for."

She hadn't asked him his name, throwing out another he didn't recognize as her eyes scanned the painting with relief. She pulled out her cell to take a photo of the item and then make a call. They were alone in the back of the museum, the rest of the curators off for the night while Neal had decided to set up his section in the solitude of a nearly closed museum. So much for getting anything done. The cuffs rattled and echoed off the walls of the large space as he shifted slightly, finally pulling himself up into the chair to be more comfortable. Ms. Ellis was glaring at him warily and looking down at her phone with some frustration. He felt the skin around the cuffed wrist start to chaff but it was the least of his worries as he tried to convince her of his innocence.

"The name is Neal and I think we have a misunderstanding. I am not Mr. Hunter and that is not my painting as much as I'd like to claim credit for painting a _Raphael_."

He smiled charmingly up at her, but her angry look barely subsided as she glanced at her phone again in frustration. He had an idea what was wrong as she continued waving the cell around over her head.

"No signal. I would catch my thief and have no way of reporting it. There must be a phone around here…"

She was looking around the space, a big empty back room full of wooden crates of art and various sculptures. Neal smirked slightly, remembering his own discovery of not finding a signal in this part of the museum as he pointed down the hallway.

"There's an office back there belonging to one of the guest curators. I'm sure _he_ would be able to prove who I am. He might even be nice enough to open it up and let you use the phone if you let me go."

He smiled at her again but she just frowned back, looking the way he pointed with some trepidation and then at him again. Finally she relented, removing the cuff from the chair but locking it to his other wrist in back of him as she pulled out a baton and poked him in the back with it threateningly. He twitched slightly but obeyed as they started walking.

"Don't try anything funny."

She pushed him forward as he led the way to the office several yards past large crates and displays. The corridor was dimly lit on this side as he paused before a door. Ms. Ellis blinked at him, trying to figure out why he had stopped when he reached into his pocket, pulled out a key and opened up the door. It took her a moment to register what he had done as he handed her the cuffs and smirked.

"What the…"

Neal had her off guard for a moment, something he had planned as he went into the office and pulled out his credentials, pointing at the phone on the desk. Ms. Ellis was definitely surprised, eyes on the phone but mainly on the placard and picture on the desk. The latter was of himself.

"_You're_ Neal Caffrey?"

The flush of anger she'd had before suddenly became an embarrassed blush the more she looked around the office and saw he wasn't who she thought. There were photos on the walls showing Neal at different galas and events, proving he was telling the truth. He nodded at her with a grin, showing her his wallet which he had left in the office locked in a drawer. Her mood changed drastically from strong arm to mortified but he thought it was cute, shaking his head.

"I'm flattered you thought I'd steal something so precious but I appreciate art too much to hide it away in some secret vault. I'd rather share it with the world. If you still need to make that call..."

He was teasing her but also giving her a way out by making light of the situation. Neal didn't take himself too seriously. He was an artist. He made his money with drawings, sketches and whimsical pieces done in pigments. He could hardly call it real work but it was a passion of his he took to heart and was happy to say _paid the bills_. It was his bread and butter just as Ms. Ellis obviously took her job of returning stolen items to those who had clean title to them seriously. He kept smiling, her cheeks flushing more as she pursed her lips shut. She looked kind of cute flustered, his smile growing and her cheeks continuing to redden.

"I… Mr. Caffrey…"

She was unable to speak, something he sensed was far from normal as he waved his hand at her in polite dismissiveness.

"It's ok. Call me Neal. I'm willing to forget if you promise me one thing…"

He was holding out his hand towards her as he finished.

"Let me help you find the culprit. Better yet… do we know that's the real piece?"

He waited for a response, the look on her face priceless despite their short and abrupt acquaintance. She took his hand with a less sheepish smile, doubt in her eyes. Sara had a firm but gentle handshake. It told Neal she was dogged in her pursuits and it said she didn't give up easily.

"Help me? I… This isn't exactly a game, Mr. Caffrey. How would you be able to assist me although I could use some information on your colleagues. I still can't believe I… Mr. Bosch isn't going to be happy about this…"

She was no longer flustered but looking at him curiously as she finally nodded back at him with a certainty that meant she was accepting his offer if not a bit reluctantly.

"Nobody needs to know about this meeting but you and I. Agreed? Now, should we go look at the piece? I'm a _not so well known_ study of ancient pigments and painting styles. It's one of my little known secrets. Also… my colleagues won't be back until morning. We have all night to figure out who this _Mr. Hunter_ is."

He made a flourish with his arm towards the door, pocketing his wallet and cell as she put her cuffs into her small handbag and nodded. She was smiling more comfortably now as he locked the office and they stepped back into the corridor. She relaxed, her humor returning.

"You're a very lucky man, Neal. I only cuffed you. I also own a baton."

She pulled a small telescoping rod out, Neal smirking slightly as it was returned.

"I was hoping you meant the cheer leading one. I'll remember not to get on your bad side."

Neal caught her eye, something in her expression indicating the attraction he felt might be mutual.

"There's always a first time…"

**()()()**

Neal woke up with a start, glancing at the bottle of scotch beside him on the coffee table, his head a bit achy from drinking too much as he pulled the buzzing cell from his pocket and glanced at the screen with a quiet groan.

"Theo, it's... 2 AM…"

He squinted at the time in small characters at the top of his phone menu, his vision bleary from alcohol and tiredness. He must have passed out and didn't realize it. He barely remembered talking to Sara on the phone as she settled into her flight to London. Her job as an insurance adjuster and sometime recoverer of stolen items for _Sterling Bosch_ caused her to leave at weird hours of the day and night to different states if not countries to find items that were taken from their clientele. In this case, she was looking for a rare piece in the form of a _music box_. He had wanted to go with her but the charity event had run long and it was his business to make sure everything went well, mainly why he was curious why his friend was calling. Theodore Winters was the reason for the charity, at least the part concerning the Children's shelter.

"_2 AM? How did it get so late so soon?_"

His friend sounded like he was about to start quoting _Seuss_ as Neal coughed to bring him to the reason of the call. He was tired and a bit hungover, sitting up as he rubbed the bridge of his nose.

"Yes… my point exactly. What is it that you want, Theo?"

He stifled a yawn, staring across the large living room through the dimly lit space to the bay windows near the entrance. It was lightly snowing outside, small flakes passing by his window as he focused on the glittering flutter of each tiny white flurry for a moment. It reminded him of Christmases back in St. Louis with his Mom.

"_I just wanted to thank you._ _We made a killing! The kids will appreciate it. Santa can be generous this year and you my friend are the top artist and a friend to foster children everywhere… myself included._"

He heard the wistful nature of his friend's voice, understanding the call now as he smiled slightly. Theo had grown up in foster care, Mr. Jeffries the orphanage caretaker who'd helped him by taking the young boy in as his own when there was no where else for him to go. Jeffries had passed only a few short months before, missing the charity event that was for him and his foster home. This had meant Theo was now in charge of the newly updated Children's Shelter. He had earned the distinction but it was still too soon after Jeffries death to be anything more than bittersweet. Theo had looked lost as to what was to be done, Neal and Sally, Theo's current girlfriend, taking up some of the slack to help until he had come back to himself.

"I'm glad I was able to use my talents to help such a worthy cause. So, did you want to come over and have a drink with me? We should celebrate _Santa's_ windfall."

Theo began to chatter happily, his voice becoming a buzz in the background of Neal's thoughts. He was missing Sara more than he cared to say, the house empty without her. He had been alone for a while now but once they had become a couple, He and Sara were inseparable except when work called. Their engagement 6 months ago had been whirlwind at best and now they were deciding when to set the actual date of their nuptials. The only problem keeping them from getting married tomorrow were their professions. She had her obligations to bring back purloined items and he was obliged to make artwork or curate shows. Sometimes a show coincided with her trip to the same locale. When that happened, life was good and they were able to enjoy the moment as if they were a normal couple. His fame and her travel kept them apart at times but it was also something they both enjoyed when they could share it together. He was thinking about her being gone for the whole week when he remembered he was in the middle of a call. Theo hadn't noticed the silence, jabbering on like a little kid too excited about the holidays. The image made him smile.

"_I would but Sally… she's here. I just wanted to call to congratulate you on a job well done before we did some celebrating of our own._"

His friend was more forthcoming than he liked, Neal nodding at the cell as he coughed uncomfortably at the image in his head. Sally was a nice woman, somewhat attractive in a mysterious hacker sense but he'd come to appreciate her talents as a web designer so much more since their introduction. Theo had come through with information Neal needed on creating an online presence when he'd found her through a mutual acquaintance. After a week or two, they had hitched up when they discovered their mutual love of tech. Theo had been divorced for a few years and Sally ended up being the fix for this friend's broken heart. So close to Christmas, it was nice that they were both in relationships. It mellowed them out, keeping them from being consumed by work or other encumbrances. Neal had been obsessed with his past for far too long and now that Sara was here, he could concentrate on the future. His friends, critics and fans noticed a change in his art for the better, the darker colors of the past fading into something brighter.

The conversation started to ease up focusing mainly on the art show's success and future plans for the Shelter before they said their goodnights. It was quiet after the final beep of his cell as Neal placed it on the coffee table. A clock ticked somewhere in the background, the silence too much for him as he stood and made his way to the kitchen.

He flipped the lights, the bulb giving a soft hum as it revealed a roomy space with everything the _at home chef_ would need to whip up anything from crepes to fried zucchini. If Sara, Theo and Sally were here he'd be doing some culinary magic in this area but right now it was just him. He opened up the freezer and pulled out a pint of pistachio ice cream, taking it back with a spoon to the sofa. The fireplace was still lit, something he remembered starting when he'd come home hoping it would warm him up from the cold snowy evening outside. The ice cream cooled his disposition from lonely to only slightly less so as he grabbed the remote for the stereo and turned it on. Christmas music started playing; an instrumental of _Sleigh Ride _by the _Boston Pops _lilting in the background as he leaned back on the sofa and took another spoonful of pistachio, savoring the flavor. It was homemade goodness from the caterer of his last two events. He would have to ask about her recipe again but she was coy about giving out such secrets. He didn't blame her as he let the music relax him even further, a yawn escaping his lips.

_Life is good…_

The thought flashed across his tired brain just before another sound jarred him from mostly content to startled. Someone was pounding on his door urgently. Neal was uncertain who could be banging on front door 3 AM as he put the pint down on a coaster and went to take a peek outside. Maybe it was Theo come for that drink after all but his friend should still be at home. The call had only been a few minutes ago not that Theo hadn't called him while in route before. Neal pondered if someone could be at the wrong door. It had happened before unless it was a much too eager fan of his works coming for a visit. He didn't want to call the cops if necessary but some people mistook politeness at live events and adoration of his celebrity as an invitation. He gave a sigh, peering through the peephole.

Neal was surprised by what he saw outside. It was enough to make him open the door without a second thought, giving a quick glance around as he knelt down to touch the figure slumped on his stoop. The man was already covered in a thin layer of frost, the pretty flakes from earlier more like a blizzard now as he put his hands under the man's arms and pulled him quickly inside. Neal closed the door before more flakes could blow in, the young man shivering slightly from the cold and uncertainty. The man didn't move so he wasn't even sure he was alive, reaching for the cell in his pocket to call _9-1-1_ but pausing a moment before to check for a pulse. There was a weak beat that met his fingertips from beneath icy skin, relief as he went to grab a throw off the sofa and wrap the man in it. He began to examine the figure noting their dark brown hair, cut short and that he was maybe slightly taller than himself if the man was standing. He felt around the man's pockets for an ID but found nothing, reaching for his phone again to call when an icy hand grabbed his. Brown, honest eyes peered up at him as if they were familiar with one another.

"N… Ne… Neal?"

The voice was shaky, unfamiliar and yet they seemed to know him even if he didn't. Neal didn't know what to say, blinking a moment in shocked surprise as he knelt beside the man.

"You seem to know my name… what's yours?"

He had the cell in his hand ready to call an ambulance. The man blinked back at him, staring around the space a moment as if uncertain about something before he replied once more.

"N… Neal… This… isn't…"

Suddenly the man slumped, Neal catching him before he could hit the marble flooring of the entrance way. He lay the man gently down, as he called 9-1-1 and waited.

"_9-1-1, what is your emergency?_"

**()()()**

"This is just like the old Chinese saying: _May you live in interesting times_. Neal… your fans are getting more desperate to see your works in progress although he looks less like an art lover and more like a plain clothed cop!"

Theo was babbling excitedly at him, something he did when nervous and he was definitely the nervous type. Sometimes he could be plain paranoid if not superstitious which didn't fit his techie background. Neal just accepted the weirdness, Theo's heart in a good place when it came to most things. The guy liked angles if not deals which helped Neal at time when he was looking for his caterer and webmaster. Theo was constantly reading classic fiction and random tech manuals but also about things like UFO conspiracies, anti-aging and new age mumbo jumbo. Perhaps his youth as an orphan had skewed his view of the world making him less able to cope with certain things. Still, it made for a fun conversation if you didn't mind the paranoid aspect of it.

"I don't think he's a fan but he seemed to know my name. Don't give me that look. You think I could have left him out there to freeze? Doesn't matter if he does end up being a fan, someone hurt him bad enough to almost kill him. _I wonder what's taking the nurse so long_."

Neal was worrying about the stranger despite himself. The situation was surreal at best beating any past interactions with fans or reporters he'd had up until now. He was still relatively off the radar but lately his art works had become popular due to more press from his agency. It was difficult at times to deal with being a household name when he had been a relative nobody for so long. He liked being renown but sometimes missed the days he was out of the public eye. Theo tugged at his sleeve like a little kid, pushing up his glasses slightly as they slipped down his nose.

"Fanatic is more like it although the contusions and gashes have me thinking maybe he was mugged. I thought your neighborhood was a _nice_ one. Maybe you should move. I never stay in the same place for long. _Feng Shui_ goes stale after a bit."

Theo was on one of his binge babbles again, Neal tuning him out a bit as he turned and saw a doctor and nurse chatting. The RN was pointed their way. Maybe this was the info he was seeking?

"Are you listening to me, Neal? Oh, is that the nurse?"

His friend's attention span was short sometimes, the nurse and doctor walking towards them as Neal waited to hear what was wrong with his strange visitor in the night. The doctor gave him a curious look, holding out his hand to shake. The nurse blushed slightly, waiting it seemed to ask something but remaining quiet for the moment. Neal had an idea what was on her mind.

"Mr. Caffrey… I'm Dr. Gary Carlson. Rebecca here was telling me that you were the one who found our _John Doe_."

The doctor was a 40ish looking man with salt and peppery hair, soft green eyes and tanned skin despite the season. He guessed the man was a golfer or traveled a bit because he could see the tan line near the edge of the man's sleeves of the lab coat and collar of the blue scrubs underneath.

"Yes. I already told the officers who were here earlier all about what happened. I have no idea who he is and didn't find any ID on him when I checked. He seemed to know me but I can't think that I've met him before. Is he going to be ok? I did what I could under the circumstances."

Neal thought back to bringing more blankets for the man to keep him warm as well as taking him over to the fireplace. Something about the stranger made him curious as to why he had been on his doorstep. He wasn't the only house on the block.

"He's doing better but he's still unconscious. He's dehydrated, some signs of minor frostbite along with signs of being beaten. I would have to say he was mugged or carjacked, not uncommon in this city but your home is off _Riverside Drive_ by the park, is it not?"

The doctor seemed well familiar with his address, Neal feeling a slight flush of his cheeks. Most everyone knew about him in the city that liked his artwork and apparently the doctor was one of them. He nodded somewhat uncomfortably, the nurse still looking at him expectantly as he realized she probably wanted an autograph even at a time like this.

"Yes, you could say that. Not a neighborhood many people get mugged in. The officer who interviewed me, Captain Barrigan said that she would be certain to get back with me if there was anything forthcoming. Please let me know how he is. I'll do what I can to help find his family."

He was being cooperative, still very curious about the man who showed up on his stoop. Theo had been oddly quiet, listening to everything with wide eyes before they said their goodbyes, the doctor agreeing to contact him if anything came up. Neal started to walk away when the nurse quietly coughed, holding out a piece of paper.

"I wouldn't normally ask…"

She was shy if anything but also looked rather embarrassed considering everything but Neal nodded, smiling back. He finished writing her an autograph which she gently tucked into her pocket.

"I loved your _Kate of 1000 days_. Such a beautiful, haunting portrait. I'm sorry for your loss."

Apparently the nurse knew more than most about that portrait, his recollection finally coming back that this was the same hospital he had come to see about Kate that fateful night. It had been almost 4 years ago to the day; a plane accident. Kate had not survived her injuries and it had been a terrible time for him until recently when Sara had entered his life. He just nodded politely, trying not to remember the incident as Theo pulled him aside with some pretense about thanking her for the interest. The nurse nodded with a shy smile, cheeks still slightly blushed as she left them. Neal even after all the time he had spent being at galas and shows still had trouble telling people no. Theo didn't have that problem and for that he was glad for his friend's presence. The little guy had a way of shooing people away when it was necessary, distracting them so he could get away when he was too polite to say otherwise.

"_The nerve of her wanting your autograph at a time like this. This is why I hate hospitals!_"

He wasn't as loud as he could be but they were out of earshot of the nurse, Angela having gone back to her duties as they saw her assisting another patron in a wheelchair. How someone could go from fawning over a not so important artist as himself and then back to a selfless job of helping people made him wonder. He had never been a selfish sort but growing up as he had with a mother that was distant, he had found means to get around the system and get what he needed even if it was at times _ill gotten_ means. That was why his art teacher had tried to help him. He'd been in danger of getting expelled if not of creating a juvie record for himself without his help.

"She was starstruck. I can't… blame her."

He smirked slightly, the narcissist in him coming out despite everything. He was good at what he did and he knew it, a smack on the arm bringing him back to reality as Theo hit him with his palm.

"Great, _Rembrandt_… get your head out of the clouds. Do you want me to drive you home? I haven't been drinking… yet."

Neal nodded at his friend's words, tired suddenly after the excitement of his big show and everything else. He slumped on the passenger side of the yellow sedan Theo drove. He kept joking it looked like a cab but the little guy liked it as did Sally so he only teased once in a while by holding up his hand when he saw him as if he were hailing a taxi. Neal tried to relax on the ride back, close his eyes a moment and not think of anything but it was hard, the man's words coming back.

"_N… Neal… This… isn't…"_

_Real._

That's what the man had said, the last word barely breathed before he passed out from the cold and his injuries. The comment both confused and intrigued him but right now all he could think about was why this man had picked his stoop and how he knew his name. Theo was chattering at him in the background and it occurred to him his friend had given up on a date night with Sally to come help him with this situation. For that he was reminded why he had a friend like Theo. They had met on a particularly bad day only months after Kate's death, his thoughts pushing aside the memory of the how and only concentrating on what it meant to him as he nodded off.


	2. Chapter 2

**(Chapter 2)**

A week went by and the stranger hadn't woken up, but as usually happens real life interfered enough that Neal temporarily forgot about his unusual visitor. He was distracted as he prepared for Sara's return and a rare but special evening in. She had the upcoming weekend free and his current projects were either finished or set aside on the back burner to celebrate with his fiancee. Nothing was going to mess up this special evening as he picked up his cell and answered.

"Arts Supply Emporium, how may I help you?"

He could see by the caller ID it was Theo, the little guy often doing the same when he called him. There was silence a moment before his friend coughed and replied.

"_Funny, Neal. I just wanted to see if I could borrow a bottle of wine. I think I'm going to pop the question tonight._"

His friend sounded excited, more so than he ever had for a woman he was dating but it seemed the past year had been enough to convince Theo that Sally was the one. They were practically connected at the hip, their interests similar in many ways. It was a perfect relationship, much like his and Sara's. He grinned, nodding at the cell as he finished cutting up some vegetables and pushed them with the knife into a small frying pan.

"Sure, just stop by before 7. Sara said she wasn't sure exactly when her plane was arriving but that should be about right. It's nearly 5:30 now and the airport site says 7 PM for estimated arrival."

He was distracted a moment as he chopped up a whole onion, eyes tearing slightly but he was an expert, careful to wash his hands as he finished, pushing the diced bits into the same frying pan and wiping his hands on his chef's apron. It had been a gift from Sara, a dark red color to hide any spills but he was a expert, the tease not lost on him.

"_I'm already half way there. See you soon, Mon frer._"

The call ended and Neal put the cell on the counter, moving towards the stove with the pan full of chopped and diced veggies when he suddenly winced, a horrible migraine hitting him hard. There was a clatter, a delay in his thinking that didn't immediately let him know it was the pan in his hand as it fell to the tiled floor. He followed after a moment, collapsing to his knees first as the pain seemed to weaken him. He'd never had a headache like this before, Neal biting his cheek until he tasted blood. The pain was unbearable as he finally slumped to the floor with a painful thud, head connecting with the tile. His eyes saw the cell phone above on the counter, miles away it seemed as he reached for it but finally succumbed to the ache and blacked out.

_Neal… Neal wake up!_

Someone was talking to him but he didn't recognize the voice.

_Neal… wake up!_

His eyes were shut tight and yet he felt as if he had waken up somewhere else, eyes staring up through a blurry haze of smoke and semi-consciousness. There was a figure bent over him, only a hint of brown eyes in his field of view, the rest a silhouette as he tried to make sense of the vision.

_Neal…_

The man was begging him to wake up, a hand touching his cheek while another gently but firmly shook him. Their voice was full of worry and concern but who they were was a mystery as the dream or _hallucination_ went on. Suddenly he felt a hard slap to his face, the scene fading away.

"Neal? Neal… Geesh…"

He had reached up and grabbed the hand that had slapped his face as it started in for another hit. It was a different hand than the one in his dream, Theo looking down at him in panic. It took a moment for him to realize he was back in the kitchen as he made a clumsy attempt to sit up with his friend's assistance. Neal leaned back against the kitchen island, eyes shut a moment as he saw a brief glimpse of the man from his dream or at least those brown eyes and then opened them up again to see Theo gazing at him curiously.

"Do I have to ask why you're on the floor? You had me worried when I saw you in a heap…"

Theo was describing what happened, Neal stopping him before he could continue. The little guy had a spare key so that explained his getting in but had he really fainted?

"I don't remember... what happened. I was chopping vegetables…"

His mind was blank, even the vision of those honest brown eyes looking down at him in concern were fading away as he blinked up at his friend. Theo looked worriedly at him, helping him to his feet despite wanting to call someone. Neal shook it off, standing shakily on his feet a moment before everything seemed to settle again.

"I'm fine. I need to finish getting things ready for Sara."

He was trying to get his friend not to fixate but Theo, when started was quite the worrying type and hypochondriac when allowed to let his paranoia out. His body ached but he acted normal, not wanting to give his friend any more reason to be concerned about him.

"Are you sure it's not _Ebola_? Didn't you have some guest from Africa the other day at the gallery? You don't feel warm…"

Theo was reaching up to feel his cheeks and forehead, Neal pushing him aside with some annoyance. He glanced down at the mess on the floor, distracting himself to forget what had happened but his friend shooed him away.

"Go clean yourself up. _I'll_… clean up here."

Neal was going to argue but he saw that Theo was just concerned about him as he nodded almost sheepishly, patting his friend on the shoulder before he left the room and headed upstairs. It seemed a very long trek up, his body aching from the fall he barely remembered. If that had been a migraine, it had been a doozy of a headache, a low throb in his temples still remaining. This was new for him, having had some headaches in the past due to using paint thinner and some oils but he had never passed out before or lost time. He glanced at the grandfather clock in the hallway at the top and saw he'd lost almost 45 minutes. It was after 6 PM and Sara would be in town soon. He sighed, the dinner he'd hope to make for her turning into a take out night at this rate. Neal walked into his bedroom at the top left and started to undress, seeing the food stains on the white linen shirt where he had collapsed on the scattered vegetables and olive oil. The shirt wasn't ruined but it was close as he took it to the bathroom and rinsed it out in the sink with some light soap. The oil was washing out but time would tell if the rest of the stains would go away. Maybe June his dry cleaner and tailor could fix it with her magic? Neal hung the shirt up in the shower, wiping himself down with a damp towel before he went into the bedroom again to put on another clean shirt. Thankfully only his shirt had been stained as he brushed any dust from his khaki slacks. He stepped back into the bathroom to fix his hair when he noticed a slight bit of red along the right temple, reaching up to touch it.

"Damn…"

He cursed lightly, grabbing up the same towel he'd used a few minutes before to dab at the injury. Apparently there was a small gash along the hairline, a little blood dribbling down now as he gently prodded the tiny wound and cleaned it, placing a bandage over the cut. It was small, nothing to worry about and not even enough to take to the ER. Last thing he needed to do what worry Theo more so he fixed his hair, tossing a bit of his bangs over the bandage to hide it as he washed his face with a bit of cool water. Now he looked like himself, a confident artist who was about to have a date night in with his fiancee. He broke out his trademark smile and grinned, hoping to fool everyone even if he couldn't fool himself.

_You're fine, Neal. Breath…_

The words seemed to calm him, the last one in a voice he didn't recognize but he was relaxed now and ready for whatever was to come. He heard a doorbell downstairs as he hurried to answer. Theo was no where to be seen when he opened the door to find Sara standing there. She was looking away from the door a moment, right hand on a rolling suitcase as her other sat on her hip firmly. She was wearing a dark green two piece dress with a matching jacket and black knee high boots. It looked like she had been visiting with someone important or maybe a meeting that morning. Sara's sense of style was impeccable much as his own. Suddenly, her brown eyes were looking into his, a shy yet seductive smile on her lips.

"Neal…"

She was smiling at him a bit more broadly, brushing back his hair as she caressed his face. He saw her eyes widen, fingers delicately touching the bandage. He winced a little at the still fresh injury, Sara ts-tsking him as her expression turned to concern.

"What happened?"

She asked him as he tried not to say. Thankfully Theo came by right at that moment, looking between the two like some kind of thief, a bottle of wine tucked surreptitiously beneath one arm. Sara looked between the both of them when she saw Theo's expression reflecting her own.

"Hopefully _one_ of us can get through to him… not that it's any of _my_ business. _(looking at Neal) Enjoy the evening…_"

The last part was mysterious at best, Sara glancing between the two again before a smile returned to her lips. Theo's departure had brought about a nice aroma to the air that Neal didn't recognize at first. Sara hit him gently on the shoulder, the smile widening as she kissed him.

"Neal… I thought we were going to eat out."

He helped her inside, taking her luggage as they finally moved from the door to the entry way. The bags were put aside before she slipped out of her boots and they walked into the dining room. Neal could smell something good and it made him curious as they both entered to see a table set with everything he had planned for the evening and more. Leave it to Theo to do the cooking for him. He smiled inwardly glad for the little guy having shown up when he needed someone. If anything, Neal was lucky to have the friends he did. Sara suddenly poked him, drawing him closer as she wrapped an arm around him.

"This… looks delicious. Thank you..."

She gave him a long loving kiss on the lips, her fingers gently combing his hair as he hugged her close. He watched her eyes move up to the injury on his forehead, that worried look back as he tried to assuage her fears.

"I'm fine. Just a _little_ accident… I'll tell you about if you really want to know _AFTER_ dinner. Ok?"

He didn't want to think about what had happened, happy to have Sara back as she agreed with a silent nod. Neal pulled a chair out for her as they sat down for their date night feast.

**()()()**

A couple of hours later, they were half way through their dessert, a luscious creme brulee Neal had made earlier in the afternoon when he felt his cell buzzing in his pocket. Sara blinked, looking at him a moment as he looked surprised. He wasn't expecting anyone to call and Theo _knew_ better (_not that he ever listened to better judgment_) as he glanced down at the screen to find out it was the hospital.

"Who is it, Neal?"

He must have looked surprised, answering the call uncertainly.

"Hello?"

He listened a moment, replying as needed. Finally he hung up the cell and gave a sigh of relief and surprise. Sara seemed curious for answers as he replied.

"It was the hospital. _John Doe_ woke up."

He had kept Sara up to date through text and during some of the initial calls when she was in London about what was going on with his mysterious visitor. She had been intrigued, her hazel brown eyes bright with interest as they left the table to go see who this man _really_ was.

Half an hour later they were at the hospital when they should have been home relaxing in each others company but both of them had been curious why the man had showed up on his doorstep and known his name. Maybe it was just a coincidence but something about the man's words told him he should know. The doctor was waiting for them at the lobby when they showed up, a curious look on his face.

"Mr. Caffrey… Ms…"

He turned to shake Sara's hand as she replied.

"Ms. Ellis…"

Once they had been introduced he walked them towards the elevators, everyone entering as he pushed the 3rd floor and they headed up.

"Officer Barrigan and her precinct still haven't found a name or any report of a missing person matching our _John Doe_. I thought since you were interested in this case, I'd call you if he woke up."

Dr. Carlson waved them towards a door.

"Let me do a quick exam and when I come out, you'll be free to visit."

The doctor seemed happy he was there, Neal having helped to put the word out and a small reward for anyone who knew who the man was. Nothing had come in that had told them who his mysterious visitor had been or that he even existed. Sara held his hand, the two moving towards some seats outside and getting comfortable as they waited to go inside.

"So there's been no word on who he is or that anyone knows him?"

She seemed very curious but also confused why Neal was still dealing with this when it really wasn't his business anymore. He was a kind man and maybe he was too generous at times but this person had come to find him and he had to know why. It seemed a mystery too intriguing not to discover the specifics of. Perhaps it would turn out to be nothing at all but he had to figure out who the man was.

"Not yet. Officer Barrigan called on a friend of hers in the FBI named Jones. There's nothing placing this man in connection with me or my family much more he doesn't seem to exist according to the Federal databases. Theo thinks he must be a _time traveler_ but you know how impressionable he is."

They chuckled about the comment, the topic turning to his show and a current piece he had finished. Sara told him about London and also a side trip to France. She took plenty of pictures of the _Louvre_ and some other fine art museums and classical architecture for his reference collection. She was showing him some images on her phone when the doctor came out and addressed them.

"I don't want to agitate him so why don't you go in alone, Mr. Caffrey."

Carlson blushed slightly at Sara who nodded in understanding. It made sense the man inside might be confused after a week unconscious. Hopefully they'd get some answers soon. Neal rose, letting go of his fiancee's hand as he followed the doctor into the room. The door clicked closed softly behind him, the room dimly lit but for one light near the bed where a man with short brown hair seemed to be sleeping. They approached quietly, Dr. Carlson talking in a relaxed tone.

"You have a guest. I thought you might like some company."

When the doctor finished speaking, the man moved, turning towards them. His eyes were a soft brown color, emphasized only slightly by the yellowing bruises on his face and neck. A large bandage was wrapped around his forehead with various other smaller bandages over cuts and gashes, one arm in a sling. Despite everything the man seemed aware of his surroundings but mainly he looked at Neal a long moment before turning to the doctor and smiling.

"Thanks, Dr. Carlson and this is...?"

He was definitely looking at Neal now, holding out a hand entangled with IVs and sensors. Neal reached out and shook the man's hand, a firm handshake he noticed. The man's quick and curious glance caught him off guard as he tried to think where he might know the man from. Perhaps the days since his discovery had make this stranger more familiar than he really was.

"Neal Caffrey."

He watched the man give him a look over before settling back into bed, their hands releasing. There was a pained look on the man's face and one of confusion before the look turned to something more tragic. Dr. Carlson immediately started to talk about _amnesia_ and _head traum_a and the fact that his memory might return any day. The man nodded but it was obvious that although he seemed to know Neal, he didn't know who he was. It wasn't an act. He could only imagine what "_John_" was going through.

"Thank you Dr. Carlson. I guess I just feel strange not knowing what to call myself."

The man didn't seem demented like a few people that had showed up on his doorstep in the past. It was hard dealing with random strangers stopping you on your stoop asking to come in or to listen to them rant about art, especially their own, although he normally didn't mind that sort of thing at shows or gallery exhibits. There it was expected but at home he should have some privacy. It was by chance he was asked to do a spread in one of the big "_magazines_" on his home, something that had just allowed more access to where he was. It had been his agent's idea to do an article about getting inside the head of a famous artist or at least their home to learn more about them. It had definitely boosted his prestige in some circles but caused him further problems when it came to his privacy. The home he bought on _Riverside_ had belonged to an old bootlegger and con man named _Byron Ellington_. When he died he had no heirs and the house had come up for auction. Neal had fallen in love with the place immediately, the history of the bootlegger and the original architect romanticized in his mind as the perfect place to work on his painting. There was quite a bit of history behind the structure not to mention secret rooms, passages, 2 way mirrors in some cases and a million dollar view anyone would pay for. He often went up to the terrace and just stared out at the city letting his mind wander away from the cares that worried him. The house suited him and was a work in progress for him and now Sara who both wanted to upgrade it into a showplace once they were married. This was why the article had been made, his agent contacted by a reporter who thought this would be a great opportunity for everyone. He regretted the choice now but there was nothing he could do about it.

"Mr. Caffrey…"

Their eyes met, brown staring into blue. There was familiarity there and yet Neal didn't know why. The man knew him but his memory didn't remember ever meeting up.

"I… it's good to see you looking well. I'm glad I could help."

He tried to keep the conversation simple, Dr. Carlson standing nearby but reaching into his white lab coat pocket. The doctor stared down at a cell, reading the screen and then glancing at the two men apologetically.

"Looks like I have to leave you for a few minutes. I'll be back soon. If you need anything, push the nurse call."

He smiled somewhat sheepishly before leaving the room. The door clicked softly close emphasizing the awkwardness which seemed to grow between them as the other tried not to acknowledge the lack of real conversation. Finally the man sat up a bit, eyes gazing deeply at Neal. There was a knowing look but also a question coming he sensed.

"You... don't remember me?"

The query was odd but it was hardly unexpected. Still Neal wasn't sure how to answer, shifting his weight from one foot to the other as he figured out how to reply.

"We've met before?"

He didn't want to say anything in case he was mistaken that the stranger was a fan. It was also a possibility that _John_ was a past acquaintance but he remember most of the people from his life starting after age 3. This man didn't fit anyone from his childhood including distant relations which he had few of. Besides, there was no family resemblance, John Doe's age seemingly around the early 40s which would make him at most an older cousin or brother but he had no siblings. He waited for a reply.

"I guess you don't remember. Maybe that's for the best."

The man spoke in riddles, the tone making him nervous. The man frowned slightly, a disappointed look on his face. Neal was about to answer when the door opened and the sound of someone walking in distracted them both. He saw the man blink, looking at the figure who entered. It was Sara.

"Neal…?"

She moved closer, standing behind him as she placed her hands gently on his shoulder and squeezed in a reassuring manner. It made him more comfortable having his fiancee there. This strange man was claiming to know him but not saying how or why. Was this all an act? Maybe he knew who he was?

"Sara…"

The man said her name with some familiarity, a confused look on her face as she glanced between Neal and the stranger. She knew only what he'd told her about the incident while she'd been overseas but having the man call her by name seemed to make her, as it did himself, slightly uneasy. The man held out a hand and she politely shook it, brown eyes looking down at the ring on her finger then back towards Neal with a proud smile.

"Congratulations I guess are in order for your engagement. I'm glad it finally happened. I always thought you two would make a good couple."

Now everything felt strange, Neal standing up and turned away as the man let go of Sara's hand and the couple glanced between the other in silence. Neither of them seemed to know the man in the bed but he was familiar with them. Perhaps Neal was wrong when setting this man aside as a fan but Sara's name had not been in any articles about him due to the nature of her work. They were waiting for the date they finally set their wedding to announce themselves as a couple publicly. Nobody beyond a few friends or guests at his recent events would know they were even dating. This man was neither that he could see, deepening the puzzle.

"I don't believe I've had the pleasure. Neal?"

She was looking at him as if he had talked about her behind his back but he shrugged, uncertain where the man was going with this charade if that's indeed what is was. Neal wanted to know more but something about the turn of the conversation was making him uncomfortable.

"I think I should probably rest. I apologize for being so forward. I remember bits and pieces… _You understand_."

He was looking right at Neal, the expression on the man's face querying something he didn't know how to answer because he didn't know the question.

"Thank you for visiting. Maybe next time… I'll have more answers."

Neal sensed the hint of something there that felt like a threat but not in the traditional sense. The man was trying to tell him something though not directly. He really didn't understand what he was supposed to be figuring out as they nodded and said their goodbyes. Once outside he only looked back at the door briefly as it clicked shut, Sara's arm wrapped in his as she gave him a little squeeze.

"Penny for your thoughts. I didn't realize our engagement was public domain."

Her tone was only mildly teasing. She didn't mind letting their friends and family know. Her parents had been happy to know they would have a son in law soon but telling strangers? He shrugged, trying to put into words what he wanted to say.

"He just knew… I don't understand how but when the doctor was there he acted as if he was completely helpless then… then when we were alone he just started acting different. He asked if I remembered him but honestly, I don't. It's crazy but I can't remember if I have met him before so maybe Theo was right. Perhaps this is just another odd fan or reporter trying to be my friend. It's happened before."

He shivered slightly remembering a particularly chilling incident, an old classmate from college breaking in an accusing him of being a hack. He had tried to help the man a few years before by finding him a job with a major gallery. Ended in a huge mess he'd tried to forget. Matthew Keller was gone for now, an injunction keeping him 2000 feet away from his residence and self. He still had the small scar on his shoulder where he'd been injured by a letter opener Keller had used to stab him. His experience hadn't made him leave the public eye or shy away from fans but it made him more cautious. Sara hugged him closer, kissing his cheek.

"That is strange. So Dr. Carlson doesn't know?"

She was already looking for someone but Neal shook his head. He was almost certain the man wasn't faking but right now he just wanted to leave.

"Later… Let's go home and... finish our dinner."

He just wanted to forget about this odd situation and spend time with Sara. Today had been a strange day as it was with that migraine and fainting spell but knowing that man may have purposely showed up on his doorstep made it much more eerie. It didn't explain how the stranger was hurt but for now that was just a side issue. The man was coming to see him but had forgotten why.

"You know best how to deal with this."

She didn't argue with him as she normally would, a yawn stifled behind one finely manicured hand. He smiled at her and nodded, hugging her close as they kissed again, his eyes staring into hers as they pulled their lips slowly apart. Sara was jet lagged and he was feeling almost the same way after the migraine.

"This was supposed to be our night. Let's go get a drink somewhere or better yet… I have a special bottle of wine I've been saving. Even Theo doesn't know about it."

His friend tended to raid his small cellar of fine wines, Sara's lips curving into a broad smile.

"Oh? Keeping secrets from your best friend? What would Theo say?"

They walked down the hallway towards the elevators, arms wrapped around the others waist as they kissed again and he grinned back and pushed the elevator button.

"Bon Appetite…"


	3. Chapter 3

**(Chapter 3)**

Neal never got around to calling Dr. Carlson back that day. Once Sara and he had gotten back to his brownstone, they cuddled on the couch with some wine, the one he had spoke of and then having missed each other the past week, they went upstairs to catch up. At some point they fell asleep in the others arms, a smile on both of their faces. He dreamed of the future and when he woke up realized it was time to get down to deciding when their wedding would be. Perhaps he was feeling impulsive, the loss of Kate weeks before the wedding still fresh in his memory. Despite his past, Neal was certain he wanted to be married soon and Sara seemed to feel the same way. His thoughts were thus as he fell once again into a relaxed state of mind, arm wrapped around his fiancee and went back to sleep.

_Someone was choking, or coughing uncontrollably. The sound was close by as he turned and found himself in darkness. There was a sense of haze about him, his hand clinging to something no… to someone else's hand. It wasn't Sara's as he turned to find another figure laying nearby. The man was curled up beside him, their arm draped over him protectively. There was no motion but he could hear someone coughing as if they couldn't breath. Neal tried to nudge them but he couldn't move, his body aching as he shifted ever so slightly but not enough to nudge the man. He just wanted a look at the figure, see who they were and see where he was._

"_**I think there's someone over here!"**_

_He heard other voices calling out in the near distance and tried to open his mouth to reply but he realized it was himself that was choking suddenly. The sound he had heard was himself, not the other man as he struggled to speak…_

_Neal… Neal wake up… Neal?_

He jerked awake, breathing hard as someone hugged him close and gently patted him on the back. Sara was beside him as they sat up in bed, her face dimly lit by the light from the skylight as she snuggled close, a worried squeeze of her hand wrapped in his. He had been dreaming, a nightmare of some kind but now he was awake. It was like the episode earlier when Theo had found him on kitchen floor, only this time a smell of smoke and haze was evident. He knew it was from the dream but what did it mean and why did he keep dreaming about it? Before he had seen very little but a hint of brown eyes, now he had seen a hand and heard voices. Was he going crazy or just reacting to stress? It made no sense what these visions or _hallucinations_ were as he started to calm down, the nearness of Sara, her soft breath tickling his ear as she spoke quietly to him.

"Are you ok? You were wheezing in your sleep. You sounded terrible and you started to thrash about. What were you dreaming about. Neal?"

Her hazel eyes stared into his worriedly and he smiled despite the fear he felt, trying to calm her and himself. He licked his lips, chewing on the lower one a moment before he smiled again and shrugged.

"I'm fine. Just a nightmare."

He gently kissed her lips, holding her close in the dim light of morning as she reciprocated and they started to cuddle in bed again. He could see she didn't believe his lies but went along with it to ease the tension of the moment.

"That must have been one hell of a nightmare. You still haven't told me about what happened yesterday and don't think I forgot because of our visit to the hospital, mister."

She was teasing him but her tone held concern and finally he felt maybe he should discuss the situation. It wasn't something he understood himself yet but it was a necessary part of being with someone to share feelings, worries… why not the fact he was having _fainting spells and nightmares_. He waited until they were comfortably settled, his blue eyes staring up at the ceiling moment as he thought about the past week and everything that had occurred.

"I don't know what happened. I keep thinking it has something to do with _John Doe_. I was fine before he arrived but now… I feel like I've lost my sense of security. Maybe it's stress…"

He turned to look at her and saw he had her full attention. Sara was worried about him and she deserved answers even if he wasn't sure what was going on himself.

"I can't explain but when I fainted I had a dream similar to this nightmare. I feel like I'm somewhere else but when I come to, I don't remember anything. It's just a hazy sense of having been elsewhere. Does that make any sense?"

He closed his eyes a moment, feeling her breath on his chin as she kissed him lightly on the lips, his eyes opening to see her smiling at him.

"You're distancing yourself. Neal. Finding that man on your doorstep… it was probably more shocking than you want to admit. I was the same way when my sister went missing. I had dreams about her calling out to me and I'd wake up a mess. Something is causing this. These things don't just happen."

**()()()**

It was almost two whole weeks before Neal considered visiting the stranger again. He had been doing research in the meanwhile, checking the gallery's guest lists and online photos of past and present events but the man wasn't in any of them. That didn't mean he hadn't been around. Only a few people ever made it into the photos and not everyone signed the guest book but it was a start. He had even checked back in his yearbooks from Junior High forward and found no images matching this man so that ruled out his past for the moment although maybe the man could have been an adjunct teacher or even a prof from his college days. He wracked his brain between dates with Sara, hanging out with Theo and Sally and doing what little art he could when not distracted by thoughts of the stranger. He was nearly done with his current painting and he felt it would be one of his best pieces yet if he could just finish it. He paused, sipping at a glass of wine while looking up at the painting. Neal knew it wasn't finished but for the event it would do. No artist ever feels a piece they create is ever _truly_ finished but his mind was wandering and he was considering taking a break.

"It's been done to death and yet you found a way to make it new and interesting. Good job, Mon frer."

Theo had let himself in as usual using Neal's emergency key. The little guy had been watching him paint a few minutes before Neal turned and smirked, neither surprised nor shocked his friend had snuck inside. He had simply ignored his friend, his mind on his work. Now he could give a proper reply.

"Why don't you send that review to the New Yorker. I'm sure my agent would love you for it."

He was being sarcastic, the comment rolling off his friend like he was talking matter of fact. Theo nodded.

"I may just do that. You have the editor's contact info don't you?"

Theo glanced at him as if expecting an answer, Neal sighing as he shooed his friend away. Now the little guy was smirking.

"I need to finish this piece before the client's event Monday. Lock the door on the way out."

He was being kind but giving an obvious hint he needed to be alone, Theo shrugged but started to back out of the room.

"Fine, throw your best friend out into the cold December blizzard. The least you could have done was offer me some _tea_ or _wine_."

Now he was just being teasingly petulant, Neal turning and giving him a look as he waved him away and Theo nodded.

"Ok... ok… I'll just help myself on the way out."

The little guy left the room but Neal could hear him rummaging in the kitchen, the sound of water whistling in a teapot as he sighed and smiled. Theo was like the brother he'd never had, his early family life all but meager. He listened to the sounds of his friend in the other room as his mind wandered back in time.

His mother _had_ been a happy woman but something had changed her after his 4th birthday. He figured it was the death of his father, his mother never getting over losing the love of her life. The precinct and his father's partner had helped some, the pension coming to them after his death but it had not been enough to live on between the two of them. She had told Neal once his blue eyes reminded her of his father but those words haunted him later, his mother growing more distant as time passed from the world and himself. It had been a struggle to get through to her but he had done what he could to make their lives stable by taking care of things as best he could on the side. Nobody knew about how poor they were as he kept up appearances on the outside. He conned everyone to keep their secret. It wasn't her fault things happened the way they did, Neal protective of her even now. His father had died a hero but left a little boy to grow up much faster than he should have, still longing for that extra support and love.

There _had_ been people who helped like his High School art teacher but it was Theo who reminded him of what it might have been like to have an older sibling watching out for him. His mom had died only a short five years ago leaving him in further darkness until he'd met Kate Moreau. It had been a simple commission by her boss, Vincent Adler that ended in a whirlwind romance as he worked on the piece. Vincent had helped him by not just giving a then relatively unknown artist the chance to do a high profile mural, but by also showing him how the upper echelon lived. The man had his quirks but one of his favorite sayings was_ Clothes made the man_. Neal never forgot those lessons, still owning the suit (_an expensively tailored Versace_) in his closet. He rarely wore it, giving it a look when he was in need of solace. It reminded him of what he had gained and lost; Adler's Learjet was what had killed the millionaire and Kate. He still had nightmares about fire and flames, the past 6 years hard on him but now he had Sara and Theo. It was a family like none other and a support system he'd never had before. Sometimes he couldn't believe his luck.

"**Did you want one or two lumps?!**"

Theo's voice called out from the kitchen and Neal finally gave in, putting his thoughts aside as he walked over to him. He wiped his hands on the apron around his waist, laying it over a nearby chair as he left the studio and joined his friend.

"**Two!**"

Neal found that Theo had put out a nice little spread of biscuits from his cabinet and some left overs from a get together a few days ago. He felt a low rumble from his stomach and realized he was kind of hungry. Work would always distract him away from food, partially what Theo called his "_artists' diet_." June always told him he should put a little meat on his bones, teasing him like a mother as she tailored his suits at her shop. She was the reason he had this house. She had been a friend of the last owner, getting him an exclusive first look when it came up on the market. He turned his attention from his thoughts to see his friend gesture grandly for him to sit.

"Always make time for the finer things in life, Neal. Fame isn't everything…"

They ate in silence a few minutes after that, Theo trying not to be a bother but looking up at him curiously now and again. Finally Neal put his cup of tea and snack down to reply to an unspoken question.

"I don't remember him. I looked through every record I could and then some and he's not anywhere in my life, Theo. I don't understand how he could know me beyond being a paparazzi or an over eager fan. I need answers!"

He was trying to convince himself that the man wasn't putting him on with amnesia but anything was possible at this point. The nightmares were still happening but he had begun to control how he reacted, doing his best to see what it was they were trying to show him. Sara didn't seem to suspect he was still having sleep issues which was what he wanted and Theo… he hadn't told his friend about it and for now meant to keep it secret until he knew what was going on. Besides, his friend liked reading Freud and Jung so the last thing he wanted was an armchair therapist. He had gone to a real one for a few months after his mother's death and for a week after Kate's. It did nothing for him but make him realize how much a waste of time therapy was. His mother had gone through it after his father's death so he had little more than negative thoughts on the topic. Theo sipped quietly at his tea a moment before answering, a thoughtful look on his face.

"Could it be a repressed memory? Maybe he's from your past but even so, there's nobody to tell you who he might be beyond me or Sara and we've never met him before but you said he knew her. I would have to go with your gut and say he's possibly a stalker but not one I'm familiar with. He's not scary but he does give off a _private eye_ kind of feel or maybe a _secret agent_ vibe. Perhaps he was out doing shots of you for a _rag_ and got mugged. Not sure what else to say."

That was a first for his friend to admit defeat and stop talking. He was used to Theo pontificating more. This just proved his point: They were all confused by the man's arrival. Maybe a visit today would help. Nobody needed to know but the doctor and he could tell Theo he was visiting his agent. Andre was a nice man but Theo wasn't a fan, comparing him to a remora or a leech. Why couldn't the man take 10% of someone elses score? Neal had long given up the "_I need an agent_" speech which stopped Theo from going into his "_why do you need an agent when you're so talented on your own_" rant. They just gave each other looks now, silent knowing looks and left it at that.

"A private eye? Secret agent? Theo… you've been reading too many true crime stories again. I don't have any skeletons to flush out and you know it. My life's an open book…"

He led quite the boring life beyond his fame as an artist and going to events. Even the questionable things he did as a kid and teen were at best forgotten and too minor to discuss. He had no record, had never gotten a speeding ticket and besides his fame, he was just another pretentious artist at best in many peoples eyes. Who could possibly want to mess up what little idyllic life he had unless Keller was behind this but the man had been MIA for a while now which was for the best in his opinion. He hadn't received any blank postcards in a while which meant his so called former friend was no longer interested in him. That was his hope.

"You can learn quite a bit from True Crime stories, Neal. Trust me… Things happen in cycles _and _when you least expect it."

**()()()**

The impromptu tea party ended with some wine, mostly on Theo's end, and Neal sent him home, his friend a bit more inebriated and chatty than he had ever been before. Once his friend was safely in a cab and headed home he could breathe easy again. Now was his opportunity before he chickened out to go chat with the stranger. If he wanted answers, this was the perfect time. Neal went upstairs to clean up. He was barely half way up when he heard a knock at the door and turned around. He wasn't expecting anyone, rolling his eyes as he thought about Theo telling the cabbie to turn the vehicle around and come back. It wouldn't be the first time. He peered through the peephole and blinked in surprise. Neal felt his heart beat a little bit faster but he bolstered himself as he opened the door and gazed into honest brown eyes.

"Mr. Caffrey… I hope you don't mind that I stopped by. They let me out today and I wanted… to thank you in person for your generosity. Dr. Carlson told me about the reward you put up to find out who I am."

He seemed genuinely thankful if not grateful, something that put Neal at ease as he realized the man was shivering in hand me down clothing. The suit he wore was typical off the rack and the coat, though not worse for wear, looked like something out of a Columbo episode. If this was the best the doctor could do on short notice, it was adequate but far from elegant. He opened the door a little more and the man nodded in response as he entered the residence. Maybe he was crazy letting the stranger inside but something told him he could trust the man.

"Call me Neal. Come sit over here, Mr… I don't feel right calling you _John Doe_."

That was the most uncomfortable part of being around this man: Not having a name. A name meant everything and it set up your identity in many cases. Neal waited for an answer as the man sat down near the fireplace, turning his head to look back at him, face back lit by the flames as he moved to stand nearby. Something about the image bothered him but not enough to send the stranger away.

"I managed to remember a few more things since our last visit, nothing too significant but I have a first name. You can call me _Peter_."

The man spoke softly, calm in his manner as Neal paused, looking at him a moment before they sat down in adjacent chairs.

"Peter?"

There was something about the name that felt right for some reason. Neal wasn't sure why he thought that but it seemed familiar even if his research into his past and present showed he didn't know anyone by that name or description. He watched the stranger nod back, a less confident expression than in the hospital meeting his. The man, _Peter_ was an enigma. He seemed to know him and yet didn't know himself, a puzzle that Neal wanted resolved if not for the fact he wanted to ease his own mind. Lately he hadn't felt like himself and this man seemed to be the reason why.

"So… _Peter_, are you a patron of the arts?"

He figured the man was either that or if anything else, a reporter that dealt with the arts for one of the not so well known papers. There were a few out there that were less reputable than the _Times_ and _New Yorker_. He watched those brown eyes gaze between him and the fire a moment before shaking his head.

"I know that I like art but I wouldn't say I'm a patron by any means. My wife would say I'm the least interested in art galleries next to our dog."

The man stiffened slightly after those words, standing up as if something had happened. Neal watched Peter take a quick walk around then turn back towards him.

"I have a _wife_? I have a wife… somewhere. I remember now. We have a dog. A yellow dog…"

Peter looked lost in thought a moment, smiling as if happy to know he had remember something significant but soon frowning as he moved back to the seat and slumped into it. Neal watched with interest as those brown eyes moved back to meet his with a look of dejection.

"So you remember who you are then? Do you have a last name?"

Neal was intrigued but the look on the man's face told him the moment had been short lived.

"No… and I… I don't know what her name is only what she looks like."

Peter sighed deeply, his face unhappy enough that Neal felt for him. The stranger was truly lost, his memories incomplete. It was probably foolish what he was doing, and Theo would tell him not to consider it, but he wanted to help the man. Maybe he could find this wife. It was worth a shot…

"Give me a second…"

He stood and left the room, going to his studio to dig up a blank sketch book and pencils. Just as he found what he needed he heard a cough, the man had followed him and stood just outside the door peering in as if asking permission to enter. Neal waved him inside, pointing at a nearby chair.

"Tell me what you remember. Eyes?"

The man sat awkwardly but looked at him with a curious glance, his eyes on the sketch pad and pencils before nodding.

"Large and round… blue, with long lashes."

**()()()**

It was almost an hour later they had the finished sketch, Neal turning it around to show Peter. He had forgotten his trepidation about the man in general, that worry turning to concern as he saw brown eyes widen and nod.

"That's her… You are a fantastic artist, Mr. Caffrey."

The sentiment was honest as Neal felt a blush reach his cheeks, shrugging his shoulders as he tore the page out and handed it over. Peter gave it a good long look, eyes watery as if he were holding back his emotions. There was a long silence between them before he finally answered back.

"Neal… you can call me Neal."

It was probably more than he should do but the man was in pain and if he was going to get any answers, they were going to need to be close to the other for a bit. Peter nodded back, wiping at his eyes as he tried to hide how he felt.

"Uh… so, where do we start looking for her? I guess it would help if I had a name…"

His voice trailed off uncomfortably, Neal shrugging as he tried to think who could help them find this woman. She seemed familiar to him but he couldn't place her at the moment. Neal was about to reply when he heard the front door open. Peter was still staring at the picture but perked up enough to give him a curious look. Sara had a key to his place but she wasn't supposed to be home for a few hours. The housekeeper had the day off so it could only be…

"Neal! Neal! Where are you?! Neal…"

Theo was shouting from the entrance way as he walked into the studio and paused. He looked like he was more sober than earlier because he seemed to clam up when he saw Peter sitting in the studio. There was a look on his friend's face as if he'd walk in on a murder in progress, reaching for a cane in the container by the door and raising it like a weapon.

"Don't worry, Neal. I'll protect you! Get away from him!"

It was only quick thinking and fast moves on Neal's part he stopped Theo from hitting his guest, giving the little guy a scowl.

"Theo… meet Peter. _He's_ my guest."

He left it at that, holding the cane in his hand behind him as Theo gave him a weird look then turned to look at Peter who was standing now, sketch in hand. It was a strange introduction, the two men giving each other a long stare off before they tentatively shook hands. Peter smiled ever so slightly but said nothing more than a friendly "_Nice to meet you_." Theo didn't say anything, a semi annoyed look on his face as he pointed at the door for Neal to follow him.

"Excuse _us_ a moment…"

That was all he said to Peter before Neal shrugged and followed, Theo pulling him out of earshot.

"_What were you thinking! You invited your stalker into your home?! Neal… do I have to get an intervention started? I'm beginning to worry about you…_"

Theo was excited, upset really and paranoid as usual. Neal let him rant a moment, checking inside the room to see Peter was still standing where they'd left him before he turned his attention back to his friend and held up a hand, silencing him.

"_He's not… a stalker. In fact, he's remembered a few things. I now know his name is Peter and he might be married, with a dog._"

He leaned back against the wall as he spoke, fiddling with the cane some as he tried to distract himself. Theo took it away, putting it on a nearby chair before he started gesticulating but talking more calmly.

"Married? Does he remember his wife's name _if_ she even exists? And a dog? It sounds fishy to me… Do you know what kind of dog?"

Theo always seemed to think the worse of people initially, his sense of paranoia greater than Neal's who had a reason to be paranoid after the Keller incident. This stranger was unusual to say the least but Neal didn't feel threatened by him, not with violence at least. There was an element of mystery that made him nervous and the fact Peter knew him when he could find no proof of him in his life was a puzzle.

"Theo, concentrate on the facts. If I can help him find out who he is, then that makes it easier to figure out how he knows me."

He watched his friend open his mouth to protest then stop, nodding as if he had considered the option and finally agreed.

"_Fine, but if he ends up being an ax murderer… don't tell me I didn't tell you so._"

They were finally in agreement on how to deal with his unusual visitor when he heard Peter say something in the other room.

"This is a beautiful painting…"

Neal was curious what the comment was about as he moved back into the room, Theo on his heels. Peter was standing near his most recent work, turning to smile and compliment him.

"I'm glad… I came by."

Peter had obviously meant to say more but didn't, an enigmatic smile on his face as he turned and gazed up at the huge painting which was a colorful depiction of the Chrysler Building. He saw honest adoration in those eyes and it seemed to make him happy, Theo watching them with arms crossed over his chest in disapproval. The little guy was tapping his foot quietly, something distracting him a moment as he picked up a paper from the chair Peter had sat on. He pulled a pair of glasses from his pocket and eased them onto his face, blinking at the sketch.

"Neal… is there a reason why you made a portrait of the caterer? I admit she's rather pretty and a sweet woman but what would Sara say?"

They turned to look at him, Theo paling slightly at the sudden attention. Much as he was now the owner of the _Children's Home_ and dealt with people daily on the operation of the place, he was still quite the private person and hated public speaking if possible. Having Neal and Peter looking at him in unison seemed to be giving him a complex.

"What?"

Theo looked shocked to say the least, Peter looking at Neal with a hopeful look.

"Your caterer?"

There was a hint of accusation in the man's voice, Neal walking over to look at the picture again as he took it from the confused Theo. He gave the image another glance and suddenly realized he did know her.

"I didn't realize that's who I was drawing. Ms. Mitchell has shorter hair and wears glasses. You described a woman with longer hair…"

Neal started to rework the sketch, sitting down at his easel as he changed the image slightly. When he held it up to Theo, the little guy nodded his head enthusiastically but when he showed it to Peter, the man looked a bit confused.

"That… looks _like_ my wife but she has long hair and no glasses. I don't understand… _Mitchell_? Doesn't feel familiar..."

Neal noted how confused Peter looked, suspicions for now gone as they tried to figure out the mystery of how his caterer, whom he had never known to be married (_honestly, he had never asked her_), might now be the key to all of the mystery surrounding what was going on. He hadn't talked to her in about two weeks since the charity event. Maybe now was the time to ask for some more of that pistachio ice cream.

"Theo… I'll be right back."

He gave his friend a look that said "_watch him_" and also "_behave_" before he left the room and headed for his study. He still had her card in his planner so maybe he could call and ask her a few questions. He could just act like it's chitchat while he requested more of her famous ice cream. What was the harm?

"_Mitchell Premier Events… Elizabeth speaking._"


	4. Chapter 4

**(Chapter 4)**

Neal had meant to go see Elizabeth Mitchell but she insisted on visiting him and dropping the ice cream off herself. She said there was something she had meant to ask him about. He agreed, going back to the studio where Theo was still looking crosswise at Peter. If Ms. Mitchell was really Peter's wife, Neal hoped to ease all the questions he had with her presence. He meant to tell her about the situation over the phone but finally decided to keep quiet, hoping she would be the answer they sought. In the meantime he tried to keep Theo from interrogating Peter about his "_intentions_" just stopping a full fledged query about what kind of wine he liked. Apparently Peter was a beer guy, Theo turning as Neal walked back into the room with an accusatory look.

"The man likes beer… _BEER!_ That should be answer enough…"

Theo was going into one of his tirades, more his nerves showing than anything, about how wine was the fruit of the gods etc etc… Neal had heard this story more than enough times and although it was amusing, right now was not the time for it.

"Enough, Theo. I actually have a _Heisler_ or two left over from an event a few weeks back. I keep them for the housekeeper but you're welcomed to it, Peter."

The least he could do was be polite now that they were starting to get some answers. He watched Theo huff, crossing his arms again over his chest before pacing the room a bit. Finally his friend started to walk out, glancing back at Peter with a burning glare.

"I'll get him a _beer_… I need some wine."

Theo was already heading towards the kitchen as Neal tried to apologize, Peter looking more amused than upset.

"He doesn't trust me. I don't blame him but… why are you suddenly being so nice to me? I could be lying for all you know…"

He smirked slightly, the joke obvious as he sat back on the chair and Neal shrugged, walking around the room a moment deep in thought. Finally he looked up and smirked back.

"I may as well admit it… I'm curious how you know me. I can't find any sign of you in my past or present. Do you work for a newspaper or magazine? Are you a donor to one the charities I contribute to? What can you remember?"

Neal got down to the nitty gritty of it and Peter blinked back at him with his own shrug.

"I know my first name, that I have a wife (_maybe_) and a dog (_possibly_) and… I know you. Your friend seems familiar to me but your fiancee was definitely someone I remember although I can't say how or where from. It's just a jumble of random thoughts and things I know must be true but nothing concrete enough to say _how_ I know. Do you understand what I mean?"

Peter seemed terrified of not knowing and Neal understood that feeling all too well. He had never known his father and when his mother died after he started college, he'd been left alone in the world. It had been a miracle he'd made it to the position he was now. _A fluke of nature. He __should__ have been a criminal._

"Yeah… I think I do."

He paused, hearing the doorbell as he moved to answer it. Peter must of followed him because when he opened the door Ms. Mitchell was looking past him a moment before making eye contact again. She was smiling but there was some trepidation as she glanced behind him again at his guest and then back.

"Mr. Caffrey, I hope I didn't come at an inopportune moment."

Her tone was friendly but held a certain amount of hesitation as her blue eyes met with brown from behind large round glasses. He hoped there would be more reaction but she acted as if she'd never seen Peter before. There was no perceptible recognition at all.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Mitchell… This is _Peter_… Peter… Ms. Mitchell."

The two shook hands, Neal hoping to see some reaction but the only response of recognition was from Peter and just like Neal, he seemed confused by the fact she wasn't responding to him, saying nothing more than a friendly greeting.

"It's nice to meet you, Ms. Mitchell."

His tone was friendly but sad, the smile on his face an effort although she seemed not to notice. Ms. Mitchell shook his hand and smiled back, something in her own expression showing interest or curiosity towards him.

"Thank you, Peter. Do you have a last name?"

She was teasing now but the look on his face made her turn to Neal for answers. He gave her a shrug, pointing towards the interior.

"Please come in. Peter, why don't you go back to the studio. I'll be there in a few minutes."

Neal led Ms. Mitchell to his study glancing back to see Peter hovering near the door of the studio watching as they disappeared inside. She had what looked like a large insulated lunch bag and he assumed it had the 3 gallons of ice cream he ordered from her. He liked pistachio but this was a _special_ request since what he had to talk to her about was going to be awkward. Once she had sat down across from him and refused politely any drink or food, they got down to business.

"You said you wanted to ask me something, Ms…"

She held up a hand, smiling in that familiar manner he loved so much about her. They were friendly to a point but mostly on a professional level. They had never really sat down and talked. This would be a first for them both.

"Please call me Elizabeth. I… well, it's a bit presumptuous of me to ask what I'm about to but I thought… considering our professional background."

She paused a moment, wringing her hands on her lap before she replied again.

"I understand that the event you are going to next week needs caterers and I wondered… if it's not too much trouble of course… I wondered if you would recommend me."

She was nervous but confident despite worrying she was putting him out, doing her best not to be nervous. Neal had known Ms. Mitchell… Elizabeth for some time now and over the course of their acquaintance she had been one of the best event organizers he'd ever encountered. She was always professional but she had a fun side too making what could be a stuffy event, less so. The fact she would ask him for something like this made him smile as he leaned across and took her hand in his and nodded.

"I'll do what I can. I'm not friends with the head event coordinator but I know someone who might be able to throw in a recommendation. I'll call him today…"

As soon as he said the last bit her blue eyes lit up and she smiled brightly, cheeks flushed in surprise and happiness. She was a smart and beautiful woman, Neal glad to help her. She had the qualifications and was more than able to handle herself at such an impressive event as the Chrysler Gala. He just had to send a message to Andre. The man owed him a favor, mostly why he had been asked to do the painting. They both started to rise but then he remembered what it was he had wanted to discuss with her as he moved to surreptitiously block her from leaving the room.

"Elizabeth… I actually wanted to discuss something with you beyond the gala. Would you be bringing any guests? I have extra tickets and would love to share if you have a friend, sibling or _significant other_ that wants to go. Please let me know."

He hoped he was being just vague enough she would tell him what he needed without having to pry into her background. Elizabeth looked at him a moment as if deciding how to answer, a slight blush to her cheeks still evident.

"My family live out of town so really there's just my associate Vicki. She'll be helping me if we make it... so, no… I don't have anyone to give a ticket to at this time unless you allow dogs."

There was a pause, obviously she had been joking as Neal realized what it was she said and chuckled slightly, the silence broken.

"Sorry, bad joke. Thank you for thinking about me though."

Her answer was honest and he knew she wasn't lying even if Peter was her husband, she would have said something about missing someone and she acted like a woman without a boyfriend much more who hadn't been married. He nodded back hiding his confusion. Neal mulled over the situation trying to find the best solution to solve it. If she wasn't married to Peter then how had he come to draw her from the description. It seemed strange to think why...

"Mr. Caffrey..."

She sounded concerned, his eyes looking up to find she was watching him. He realized he'd been deep in thought, smiling once more to ease her worries.

"Call me Neal… My apologies. I have _art_ on my mind among other things. You must be busy too. Thank you again for bringing me your delicious ice cream. May I ask what kind of dog you have?"

He reached out and kissed her hand, Elizabeth blushing slightly but finally winking back at him.

"My dog? Oh… Satchmo. Yes, he's a labrador. Yellow. And don't worry about the ice cream. It was my pleasure. I know you're a busy man; I can show myself out."

She smiled comfortably at him as he let her pass, both walking to the front door. She gave him a small peck on the cheek before leaving, her cheeks flushed slightly and Neal feeling a bit like a heel but he wasn't sure why.

"She left?"

Neal had barely closed the door when he turned to see Theo there, the little guy watching him curiously. Had he seen Elizabeth kiss him on the cheek? He felt a bit out of sorts but hid it as he shrugged. Obviously it had been nothing romantic but there was an odd feeling he knew her better than the professional relationship they had now. The moment faded as he turned to go back towards the studio.

"She had things to do."

He left it at that for now but Theo was curious, blocking his path back into the rest of the house, arms crossed.

"That's all fine and dandy but what did she say about _Peter_? Were or have they ever been married?"

Theo was asking all the questions he should have, his mouth opening to speak more when Peter came around the corner, an anxious look on his face. Theo turned to see him at the end of the foyer, looking back at Neal with a whispered: _Now what?_ He was stuck trying to fix the situation but more so with a stranger who might not be as forthcoming as he thought. Peter seemed to read his thoughts, the anxious look turning to tragic again as he moved towards them.

"She doesn't have a husband… am I right?"

Peter's tone was straight forward as he grabbed up his coat and pulled it on. Neal shook his head surprised Theo hadn't come out and said anything. For once they both seemed at a loss what to say as Peter started to exit.

"I've wasted your time and mine. I really thought… maybe I was wrong."

He seemed despondent enough Neal was back to wondering if he could believe the man again. He blocked the door, holding up a hand.

"You thought you were married to her? Maybe, Ms. Mitchell only looks like your wife. Maybe you met before and just haven't remembered where."

He was drawing at straws now, something telling him this man really thought he had known Elizabeth as Peter shrugged.

"I don't… remember. I just know… I knew her as my wife or I thought I did. Dr. Carlson said I would start to remember things. It's still too soon."

He reached for the knob, Neal moving aside as Peter nodded at him somewhat despondent, turning to look at Theo then back again.

"I should go. Thank you for letting me stay as long as you did. I won't bother you again…"

The words held finality as Neal let the man go, watching Peter disappear around the corner before he could think of questions he still felt he should ask. Theo seemed happy enough, sighing as he looked up at him.

"_Good riddance…_ What?"

Theo shrunk back slightly as Neal glared at him, closing the door and going to his studio. Peter had been sincere but the facts just didn't add up. Elizabeth was single, he didn't remember Peter and neither did anyone else apparently. It was like he didn't exist but how else could he have showed up in Neal's life? And how did he know about her dog?


	5. Chapter 5

**(Chapter 5)**

Neal was glad it was finally Friday. The gala was in just 3 days, Andre happy with the painting when he stopped by to see it just after noon. For a little while he had forgotten about the stranger that had come into his life only 2 weeks before, his mind on preparations of how to send the large canvas to the proper people safely as well as what to wear. Sara was coming by later that evening but for now he was home alone and he felt like going out for a quick walk to the park. He needed to clear his thoughts, his mind still thinking about the stranger. Neal liked things resolved in nice little packages. _Not knowing_ was gnawing at the back of his mind like termites on wood. Theo as usual was still skeptical, making a few minor remarks about how a certain _someone_ had been playing them but he had finally told his friend to drop the topic, leaving his own home to go for a walk. Theo meant well but sometimes he could really drive a person to distraction if not anger with his antics and right now Neal wanted to think about nothing more than how he was going to live his life with Sara.

As he wandered down the block he noticed that the streets had been recently plowed, slush still on the sidewalks, the crisp air smelling fresh and new as he crossed the street towards the park. He didn't notice he had someone tailing him until he stopped to watch a bright blue bird up in the treetops, his artists mind taking in every detail so he could add the lovely creature to a future painting. It had been a while since he had painted anything simple like a landscape. He had been too busy with charitable endowments, galas and other obligations of being a well known artist. Sometimes he wished...

"Neal…"

He turned around curiously, the voice unfamiliar as he saw a young woman with beneath long dark brown hair in a dark tunic top with sequins and fringe, tight leather pants tucked into matching knee high black boots, a warm wool coat, also black covering the rest of her. For a moment he wasn't sure what to say, smiling in case she was a fan or acquaintance but he was certain he would have remembered her. She smiled back in a friendly manner, almost sexily he thought. As he stared deeply into her dark brown eyes glittering up at him, he couldn't place her.

"Hi…"

He didn't say too much else, a small grin on her face as if she was glad he was taken by surprise. She held out her hand.

"Alex… you don't remember me do you?"

Her voice was soft but held a certain wryness to it. She had an angle but he wasn't sure what it was yet as he played along. Something about her made him tongue tied despite his usual smooth demeanor.

"For such a pretty face, I can't say that I do."

She was lovely, something about her attractive if not dangerously pretty drawing him in but he was with Sara. He pushed the thoughts aside as she batted long dark lashes up at him, remembering he was engaged.

"It's a shame. I was a docent at the Metropolitan when you curated last year. I helped you unload your art work…"

She seemed to be insinuating something but he didn't remember anyone helping him that evening since it was the night Sara tried to arrest him. He shrugged, surprised when she cuddled up to him sweetly and wrapped her arm in his. He couldn't imagine not remembering someone like this being at the museum but he didn't. Her familiarity threw him off just enough he was losing focus on what he had been out for.

"I could go for a _hot_ drink… Neal."

Alex was batting her eyes at him again, something in her look distracting enough that he didn't notice she was leading him down the path towards a vendor selling coffee and snacks. He paid for two coffees, handing her one before she led him over to a secluded bench where they sat down. Neal sat on one end but soon she was close to him again, her arm in his as if they were a couple. It was slightly unnerving but mostly pleasant as he gave in and allowed it. He could rarely say no to a pretty woman if she asked nicely enough. Alex was looking up at him, smiling seductively from beneath her long dark hair, leaning against his shoulder as if they were an item.

"So… you were working at the Metropolitan. Are you still volunteering there?"

He had been taken by surprise, coming up with banal conversation that seemed to bore her but she was acting as if it were Shakespeare. Perhaps his assumption she wanted something wasn't far off. What were the chances two strangers would claim to know him in the course of a few weeks.

"No… I moved on. In fact… I wanted to ask you about a certain piece since you know so much about the art world. What do you know about _St George and the Dragon_?"

Her comment made him blink, their eyes meeting. Her glance was almost accusatory, Neal pulling away but she held onto his arm and suddenly he realized she had a gun.

"I know you found the painting in your crate or it would still be there when I went back to get it but it was missing. I heard your _fiancee_ claimed it for the _lawful_ owner. You owe me a painting, Neal."

Her tone had gone from sweet to threatening, Neal again trying to pull away but she had cocked the small weapon, shoving it against his ribs where she still held onto his arm tightly.

"You're not going anywhere until you compensate me for the painting. I have people I need to pay off and you're going to do it for me or your pretty _fiancee_ is going to be short a husband."

She stood, pulling him up with her roughly but all he could do was comply, Neal doing his best not to draw attention and get anyone else hurt, the gun pushed sharply against his coat. She smiled up at him, cuddling close as if they were simple sweethearts walking in the park. When he didn't play the part she hissed up at him to comply, Neal doing his best to pretend but his heart wasn't in it. Finally they had come back to his house and she whistled, a savage grin on her lips.

"This is a nice place, Neal. Now… show me what a gentleman you are and invite me inside."

**()()()**

Neal opened up the door to his home reluctant to let her inside and hoping for once Theo hadn't left. Still, she had a gun so maybe it was better he was alone. He didn't want anyone to get hurt as he held the door open for her, the gun still on him as they entered and he locked up. She smiled sweetly at him, waving him towards the far end of the room.

"You can act like you hate me now. Nobody's going to see except the two of us."

Her manner was more business like suddenly, Neal nodding at her with a slight scowl as he walked towards the stairs. He had barely started up when she hissed at him.

"What's up there? You're not leading me into a trap are you?"

She cocked the gun again and he shook his head, honestly afraid of this beautiful woman and hoping to get rid of her as quickly as possible. He had a small cache of valuables upstairs and hoped that would catch her attention so she would leave.

"My office is upstairs."

He hoped that was enough to entice her. She had to be under the assumption rich people kept safes in their offices and apparently she did, as she waved him upwards. It wasn't long before they were on the second floor of his home and in a large homey space full of books on art, philosophy and bric a brac he had collected over the years. There were also pictures, Alex looking at one closely of him and Sara then back at him with a curious look.

"So you like blondes? Figures."

Alex pointed the gun at him dangerously, Neal uncertain what to do but slowly reach down and pull out his wallet, handing it to her. She glanced at it a moment as he held it there, waving it away.

"I don't want your credit cards. I need cash!"

She looked about to shoot him when they heard someone come in downstairs. Neal glanced at the clock on his desk, the time just after 3 PM. He wasn't expecting anyone unless Theo had somehow left and come back, the house had been empty when they'd entered. He had given the housekeeper the afternoon off and nobody else had a key except…

"Neal? Mr. Bosch gave me the afternoon off. Neal? Theo? Is anyone here?"

He heard Sara talking softly to herself, unhappy she had missed him he thought when he heard a hiss and remembered his current situation. Alex was all smiles, pointing at the door.

"_Call her up, lover boy._"

He shook his head, crossing his arms over his chest to show resistance but she just cocked the gun again, moving closer and pressing it to his chin.

"Do you want your pretty fiancee to remember you with your brains splattered all over your stuffy office? I suggest you do as I say, Neal."

She held all the cards, even if he didn't want to admit it but he wasn't about to get Sara involved so he stood his ground, a look of doubt flashing before her eyes he hadn't seen before.

"I'm not involving her. Shoot me if you want."

Neal took a chance and moved towards the door, Alex following close behind the threat of the pistol evident as she pressed it through the pocket of her coat. He looked down from the second floor to see Sara walking up towards the stairs, heels in hand. She was wearing a tight fitting green dress with a black coat over it, her hair pulled back ever so slightly but flowing down her shoulders beautiful as always. Neal thought about how much he loved her, eyes looking at Alex only a brief moment before he made a decision and closed the door hiding the thief inside. Sara stared up at him, smiling but not seeing Alex in the office behind him as she made it up the stairs. There was a curious look on her face as Sara looked between him and the office door a moment but he remained calm if only to keep her safe. Alex could shoot them both but he had a feeling or at least hoped she wasn't violent.

"Neal?"

Sara waited for an answer as he remembered to act normal and smile back.

"Sorry, just deep in thought about the gala. So Mr. Bosch let you off early today? You just missed Theo…"

He had to say something, her expression (a slight smirk) indicating her relief.

"Oh? Well that's too bad for him… good for us though. Let me change and I'll be down in a few to help you forget."

Sara hugged him, kissing him on the lips as he relaxed enough to do the same and hold her a moment, eyes on the door but mainly on her when she looked at him more closely. She seemed to sense his tenseness but Neal didn't say much more, Sara giving him the benefit of the doubt it seemed. Her mind seemed on other things too which was a good thing right now as he wished she would just go upstairs. Neal worried Alex might do something rash but nothing happened.

"I won't be long Neal. I wanted to discuss something with you."

She smiled at him with one more kiss on the cheek before moving along the hallway to another staircase and climbing upwards until she vanished. Neal was watching her, wanting to follow until he noticed Alex looking at him through the now partially open door. She was no longer holding the gun, both hands outside of her jacket as their eyes continued to look into the other and finally she turned away, a slight flush to her cheeks. Had she been spying on him and Sara?

"Don't think this is over, Neal. I'll be in touch."

Alex handed him a card, waving at him as if she'd just come for a visit before slipping downstairs and exiting. Once she was gone he went down to check the door, bolting it and watching for any other unexpected visitors. With the coast clear he collapsed into the nearest chair by the hearth and sighed deeply. He should call the police but something stopped him unless it was the adrenaline still pumping through his system. He tried to calm down, think of the right thing to do. The past few weeks had brought him nothing but trouble and he was beginning to think maybe the universe (_as Theo always said_) was trying to tell him something. He jumped when someone gently touched his cheek, looking up to see it was Sara.

"Jumpy aren't we? Is anything the matter?"

She sounded curious, sitting beside him, her hand gently holding his. He wasn't sure what to think about Alex, his mind on her a moment before returning to Sara. If something were to happen to her like it had happened to Kate…

"No, was just deep in thought about the Gala. Probably just nerves. So… what was it you wanted to talk to me about? I was thinking dinner out and maybe drinks here at home. I told Theo he wasn't allowed back here until tomorrow."

They both chuckled on that last part, Sara rolling her eyes slightly. She was used to the little guy showing up unexpectedly but sometimes it was at the least opportune time and right now she hoped Theo would stay away.

"It can wait til later… I thought we could eat in; Thai unless you're in the mood to cook."

She was sitting closer to him now, practically on his lap as he made her more comfortable, staring up into her eyes.

"Thai sounds like a plan… maybe some cheesecake from the corner bakery?"

They were kissing now, their arms holding the other tightly as they did, the world forgotten. He was thinking of asking her about getting married the week after Christmas as Sara murmured a soft "_uh huh_" under her breath. It was the perfect time in fact to ask her, their calendars open during the holidays. He loved her so much he never wanted to let her go, their lips still clasped in an epic kiss, the passion between them growing until finally she pulled away. He had yet to tell her about Alex's being there but her sudden thoughtfulness intrigued him.

"I'm sorry, Neal. I…"

She slipped off of his lap and stood up, pacing the floor a moment as he stood and stopped her, holding her gently in his arms. There was definitely something urgent on her mind and he was going to make it as easy as he could for her to open up to him.

"If it's about getting married… I was thinking, maybe the week after Christmas. We could be on our honeymoon to Monte Carlo or wherever you like on New Years' day. I have time until my next show in mid January."

He hoped that was what she was worrying about, kissing her on the lips but feeling a slight resistance as their eyes met. It wasn't about marriage but he sensed that was only part of the issue.

"Neal… I _want_ to marry you. The week after Christmas would be perfect… but…"

Her tone had changed to a sadder less familiar tone and he realized maybe he'd been a bit too rash in blurting out his thoughts. Maybe he should have been more patient about picking a date? They had only been engaged for a little over 6 months. Her hand gently grasped his chin and he was suddenly looking deep into her hazel brown eyes.

"I really do want to marry you, Neal. Don't doubt that. My only concern… how do you feel about… leaving New York?"

Her voice cracked a little and after she had added the bit about "_leaving New York_" he realized what might be coming.

"They offered you a promotion. Congratulations! Where is it?"

Neal wanted to be supportive, remembering she had given up a lucrative job offer back when they first started to get serious. Sara was married to her work as much as he was to his art and yet she had stayed to give them a chance. Now work was coming between them as it often did. They tried to have dinner together if nothing else or at least to have breakfast but now she might have to leave. He suddenly thought back to her trip to London. It had been last minute after the charity gala. Now he knew why.

"London. They want me to take over the office there. It's what I've always dreamed of… well, before I met you of course."

She smirked slightly, caressing his cheek before kissing him again and looking hopeful. New York had been his home since his mother's death and was the place that inspired him the most. Theo was here as were memories too precious to let go of… until he had met Sara. The situation had them in an impasse, her career versus his. He could be an artist in London but his home was here. It would be a considerable change for them both but he knew it would be worth every effort. He might have to change agents, put his house on the market or maybe sublease it. So many things to get done before… _if_ he went with her.

"I wanted to tell you sooner. They want me to leave next week. I could ask for an extension for the wedding and honeymoon. I'm sure Mr. Bosch would allow it."

Sara was watching his expression, Neal uncertain how to answer. He nodded dumbly, still taking in the details. He thought _he_ was moving too fast but now he might lose his chance to be happy again if she left. This threw a wrench in the plans, plans that he should have brought up sooner. Neal was impulsive at times, so much so that Theo spoke about it to him daily. Now he had to think on his feet. Neal had been in a long distance relationship before and it had failed miserably.

"You think he would? I would have to find someone to take care of the house if I left. I don't want to sell it. Maybe Theo…"

They both had choices to make, he had to have time to think, everything about Alex suddenly gone from his mind as this new situation filled his consciousness. He _really_ loved Sara. He knew what he had to do.

"Sure… why not. I could paint London Bridge… Big Ben… it's just like Manhattan and then there's the West End, Art Museums…"

They started listing all the pluses of him going, her uncertainty turning into a semi-smile as she realized what he was doing. His work didn't require him to _live_ in New York but it had been his home base for so long it was hard to think about moving away. Home was where you made it and who you made it with and although he would miss Theo and Sally, he could come visit or the other way around. It _would_ work.

"Yes… Ms. Sara Ellis, I _will _be your moving companion."

She hugged him tightly, kissing him as he lifted her up in his arms and swung her around as they decided their future. It was sudden but he had been in one place too long as it was. He had always wanted to live across the pond and now he could with the love of his life. The next two weeks were going to be hectic but worth it once the Chrysler Gala was done. This was what he had dreamed of with Kate and now he was getting his happy ending.


	6. Chapter 6

**(Chapter 6)**

Sunday, the day before the gala and Neal was ready to get it over with. It wasn't one of his most stressful times but with preparation to get the house taken care of (_Theo had agreed to take over the place while they were gone, Sally happy to assist_), call his agent Hale who was more than happy to keep him on despite the commute and find a place for them both once they arrived. He had savings and so did Sara, enough to find a decent place near her work. They would go house hunting online but also in person once they had taken the time to go on their honeymoon. A short stop in London on the way to Monte Carlo would sort things out or get them started.

Neal was deep in thought when he answered the door, surprised when he saw who was standing there.

"Peter?"

The stranger had returned but now he was dressed a bit more nicely although the _Brook Brothers_ look was not one Neal himself liked. He was more into high end suits like Devore or Versace that had been personally tailored but the man had cleaned up nicely and after the last visit looked like he might remember more.

"I didn't want to bother you but since you had been so kind to me before. Here…"

Peter handed him a small red envelope. Neal nodded with a smile, taking the item and opening it up. Inside was a simple holiday card thanking him for his patience and help along with a gift card to a nearby bakery.

"I finally figured out who I was. I don't know how I thought Ms. Mitchell was my wife but _I am_ married. Her name is Jill. Apparently we had our wedding catered by Elizabeth some time ago and I guess that's why I remembered her. Thank you again for helping me."

Peter gave him a firm, friendly shake of the hands, Neal smiling despite himself. He wanted to know more but he saw a car, a black Taurus waiting with a woman at the wheel.

"Your wife?"

She looked pretty and blond. Such a change from Elizabeth who now seemed more Peter's type than the woman in the car but who was he to say anything. It was more an impression than a fact.

"Yes. I told her I would only be a moment. We have tickets for the Yankee's game tonight and I wanted to drop this off before I forgot. Oh and if you ever need an accountant… Apparently I am a very good one."

Peter winked at him, handing him a card before he shook his hand again, a bright gold wedding ring evident as he let go and left. Neal watched and waved. The Taurus pulling out onto the slushy streets as his eyes moved downward.

_**Peter Burke - CPA**_

_**Brooklyn**_

There was a flash of memory suddenly, something he didn't remember after wards but it hit him hard like the original migraine from weeks back. He managed to close the door and lock it but that's all he remembered before he collapsed to the floor. The image from before of smoke and haze was making him choke but now he felt someone shaking him.

_I found someone! Neal… Neal wake up!_

_He thought he should know the voice but he didn't recognize the man immediately as he glanced up at them blankly. Apparently he had been face down or on his side, seeing what looked like rubble and debris as the figure pulled him up into a fireman's carry. Where was he? What had happened? Neal was trying to sort things out when he saw another figure laying prone on the ground, their arm laying across the space he had just been lying down. It was dark, smoke and dust making him cough as he tried to see more of them. A flashlight brightened up the scene for a moment, eyes trying to focus on the figure below when…_

"Neal?"

Someone was shaking him gently, eyes looking upwards now instead of down. How had he come to lay down again when someone had just pulled him up? He blinked up at the figure to see it was Sara, her purse and briefcase on the floor beside her as stood beside the now partially open door, nudging him.

"Wake up, Neal... Please!"

Sara looked worriedly at him, giving a relieved sigh as he nodded sluggishly upwards. She helped him sit up, hazel brown eyes full of concern as she hugged him close.

"I was so worried! I put my key in the door and it wouldn't budge. I pushed hard on it and saw you there blocking the door. What happened? Do I need to call a doctor?"

She was panicking some, pulling out her cell but he stopped her, groaning as he reached up and felt a slight bump on the side of his head. At least he wasn't bleeding this time but maybe he should see a doctor about this. It was the second migraine of this magnitude in a month and the last thing he needed was to pass out behind the wheel of his car.

"Call Dr. Monroe."

**()()()**

Considering it was Sunday and after noon, Dr. Monroe saw them and scheduled some tests for that day. The man had been his doctor for as long as he could remember, a gentle physician who treated him when he'd broken his arm skiing one winter and the one time someone had sideswiped his car at an intersection. The man was like a father to him.

"Right now I can't say I see anything obviously wrong with you Neal. I'm glad you brought him in, Sara. I'll have to see what the result of the tests are when they come back Tuesday. I would tell you to rest but I know that will fall on deaf ears. _Make sure he at least stays stress free for the next few days._"

He said the last part to Sara who shrugged, Neal giving a sheepish grin. He had too much to take care of to relax even if he knew the doctor was right.

"I have a gala event tomorrow. Big PR event since my art is being shown. I'm a guest of honor. I can't miss that."

Now he was feeling somewhat petulant, pouting but Dr. Monroe sighed like a father, rolling his eyes.

"I said to relax, not stop your life, Neal. Just don't overdo it and have someone nearby to help if you feel faint again. I don't see any obvious cause for these blackouts or migraines but Tuesday will tell us more. Here's a prescription for the bump. Get some rest."

The doctor patted him on the shoulder gently, Sara nodding back as she wrapped an arm around Neal.

"I'll make sure he doesn't overdo it, in fact… I wasn't able to go to the gala due to work but my evening just became free for tomorrow. My boss will understand."

They left the office, the doctor seeing them out. Sara drove their Benz, Neal slumped slightly against the cool glass of the passenger side door. His eyes were only partially open, the scenery of the city passing by as they headed for the testing location. Dr. Monroe had scheduled him for a CAT scan and MRI at a nearby hospital. His head started to ache again as they approached the place.

_I'm not getting any breath… Are the medics here yet?_

_The voice sounded far away and distant but something about their tone made him worry. Slowly the scenery turned from the city and the car to rubble and debris. He was back in the nightmare from his migraine, laying on a stretcher. More men were huddled over another figure nearby, only a hint of a hand sticking out with a large gold ring. He thought back to earlier in the day..._

"Neal?"

He snapped out of it, sitting up to see that Sara had parked the car and was looking at him curiously. They were at the hospital ER, her eyes worrying until he smiled sleepily back.

"I'm ok. Just dozed off. Let's get this over with."

**()()()**

The tests only took a couple of hours, Neal more tired and ready to relax with what was left of his Sunday. Sara picked up some food on the way back, calling someone else he was only vaguely aware of as he slumped tiredly in the passenger seat. The dream he had been having didn't return but another image replaced it. A memory from earlier in the day.

_Oh and if you ever need an accountant… Apparently I am a very good one._

Peter had handed him a business card, a large gold ring around one finger with some kind of insignia on it. Neal tried to see what the symbols were in his memory but woke as the car slowed and pulled in front of his place on Riverside Drive. He sluggishly fumbled at the door latch, slipping out into the cool night air. Sara had already come around to his side, food in one arm and key in the other hand as she waited for him. She tried not to act worried but Neal knew she cared enough to let him have his space while still watching out for him. Neal wrapped an arm around her waist, her free arm going around his as he took the key and they walked up the steps to their stoop. _Their stoop._ That's right: they were getting married over the holiday. Only a few more days. He still had so much to get done before then. Sara coughed, drawing his attention to her as he realized he had been lost in thought again.

"Was thinking about the holidays."

That brought a smile to her lips as he unlocked the door and they walked inside from the cold, shivering slightly until the door had been closed and bolted. They both left their shoes by the door, walking on the cool marble floor of the entryway until they touched the warmer wooden floors just inside the huge living room. Sara took the food to the kitchen, kissing him before she disappeared into the other room, Neal moving to the hearth to start a fire. His head was no longer bothering him and something about that seemed strangely comforting.

"Neal?"

Sara's voice was soft but when she saw him look up at her, the worry in her eyes left as she brought two plates and some other items for their feast. Neal pulled a throw off the sofa, tossing it on the floor by the fire as she put the food down on the blanket and they had a kind of indoor picnic.

"We can pretend it's Central Park… wait, what's a large park in London?"

He looked at her as she leaned closer and kissed him, a wide grin on her face.

"Hyde Park. And weekends in Paris so you can sketch at the Louvre or the Eiffel Tower. Italy and Madrid when we get tired of the rest."

Her voice had lowered a bit, husky with affection as he kissed her back and they ate, feeding the other like two love struck teens.

"Oui Oui Mademoiselle."

The rest of the evening was quiet, Sara and Neal on eggshells at the beginning as if waiting for him to be sick again. When nothing happened they just fell into their normal routine. The fire was comforting so they napped there, wrapped up in each other until Sara woke him and they went upstairs to the bedroom to finish their picnic. Neal felt calm, stress free and most of all happy. The migraine was once again forgotten as was every other negative thing.

**()()()**

"I can't believe you didn't call me. After everything we've been through…"

Theo went off on one of his usual rants but mainly he was expressing his worry, a haunted look in his eyes. Neal hadn't forgotten the last time he fainted from the migraines. If not for Theo who knows what may have happened. He held up a hand, his friend pausing long enough for him to talk.

"I didn't want to worry you and besides, I had Sara with me."

He tried to change the topic, Theo for once going for the bait as he shook his head.

"Why you would ever want to leave New York, not that London isn't a great place to visit… You'll write won't you?"

Obviously his friend was going to miss him and seeing how close they were, Neal felt a twinge of regret for leaving him behind but now they could both start again. Theo would have Sally and Sara, would have him. It was a win win for both of them. When vacations were available, they'd fly over especially when he had to visit his agent Hale. Neal had decided not to change agents after all.

"Of course."

They were about to say more when Sally walked into the room, Sara behind her as she called to Theo.

"Mozzie… your Salieri is waiting for you."

Her tone had turned sexy, Sara raising an eyebrow as Neal just shrugged and tried not to laugh. Theo nodded back, a large grin on his face.

"What? We both like um classical music… didn't you ever watch _Amadeus_?"

Theo's explanation just made things so much more awkward, the two excusing themselves to get ready for the Chrysler party. Tonight was the night, Neal as relaxed as he could be as he started upstairs to shower and shave. Sara stopped him briefly, kissing his cheek.

"Let me know if you need me to fix your bow tie…"

She left it at that, a sly grin on her lips as he kissed her back on the lips and nodded.

"Of course mademoiselle. And should you need help with a zipper…"

She chuckled at his comment, his hand slapping her on the butt gently before they parted. It was a big night and he had to be at his very best. Neal was presenting one of his most epic paintings, one that could make him even more famous than he already was. His main worry wasn't the event but having another migraine. So far he had been well all day. He meant to keep it that way if possible.

**()()()**

"Andre… thank you for this opportunity."

He was thanking the man who had commissioned the painting from him, an old acquaintance, the two in a quick hug.

"No, Neal… Thank you! I don't think anyone else could have made such a beautiful painting. The committee was very pleased. _VERY_ pleased."

Those words made him smiled but he hid his joy, Andre giving him a wink before parting to talk to some other guests. It was still early in the evening, the uncovering of his canvas not for another hour. Neal felt happy, giddy almost as he looked for Sara, his fiancee glittering in a bright red dress that brought out the highlights of her light brown hair. She had styled it specially for the evening, long ringlets running down her shoulders and framing her face beautifully. He was about to join her, a large man in a tux talking to her at the moment when someone grabbed his arm and he turned to see who it was. Words stuck in his throat, Neal uncertain what to say. Alex stood there smiling sweetly up at him, arm entwining around his. Finally he could speak, a combination of anger and fear washing over him.

"You..."

He was trying to stay calm, hoping the she didn't have a gun, the young woman continuing to act as just another guest at the party. He assumed she crashed it, trying to move away when she tsked tsked him.

"I told you we weren't finish and you still owe me a painting. "

She opened up her purse revealing a small revolver among other things, the threat more than obvious.

"I'm not asking, Neal."

Alex had her arm wrapped around his, leading him back to the end of the hallway where they could see not just the main hall but had a clear view of Sara. The young woman pointed directly at his fiancee then back at the cameras nearby.

"She's such a beautiful woman. It would be a shame to show her and your snooty friends footage of you and I together."

Alex pulled out her cell, showing him pictures and film of them at the park the other day. She was blackmailing him!

"Now that we understand each other..."

Neal moved ever so slightly but felt breath against his cheek, Alex whispering into his ear.

"_Don't think I'm not taking footage now._"

Neal nodded his head uncertain what kind of deal he was getting into. He knew Sara wouldn't believe the lies but others might. He had a reputation to keep up but mainly he wanted to keep his future safe.

"What is it you want? If it's cash…"

He started to pull out his wallet but Alex frowned at him like a woman who had been given the wrong bouquet of flowers.

"I don't want _YOUR_ money, Neal. I told you that before. You _owe me_ a painting."

The last words made him curious. They were in the Chrysler building which held quite a bit of valuable art works. His painting was upstairs on the top floor for the committee and a few select guests to visit. He had access and Alex needed that. The guards would never suspect the guest of honor taking someone upstairs to look at his painting, add all the party goers to the equation and you had a perfect alibi for stealing something that wouldn't be noticed for some time.

"You want me to help you steal something? There are guards on every floor…"

He would have said more, his eyes scanning the party for someone to help. Alex seemed to know, kissing his cheek when he least suspected it. He twitched but let her continue rather than make a scene. So far nobody had noticed them yet and that's how he wanted it to remain as he pulled her aside behind a pillar. She seemed rather pleased at his embarrassment, reaching up to gently caress his chin.

"You'll figure out a way for us to get up to the top level. There's a certain office I need to make a withdrawal from…"

**()()()**

Neal stopped to talk to Andre, his friend waving him down against his better wishes and Alex's who patiently went along for the ride. They had been walking towards the elevators which were now only a few feet away.

"Neal… I wanted to introduce you to someone. This is Jill."

Neal smiled at the woman, her hair a light blondish color with golden brown streaks. She was wearing a tight silvery gown top with dress pants, a different look for an event like this but still very nice.

"It's good to meet you. I'm looking forward to seeing the piece you created."

They shook hands, something about the woman familiar but his mind was on what he was about to get involved with as he replied quickly, looking at his watch.

"Yes, I'm looking forward to everyone seeing it. My apologies but I have to take care of some last minute details. If you'll excuse me?"

Andre smiled at him curiously, glancing briefly at Alex, arm wrapped in Neal's as they hurried along towards the elevators. Neal had a key card, using it to swipe them through as the guard moved aside and they waited for the elevator. Alex pinched his arm when he started to tap his foot nervously, the guard paying them little attention which upset him more. The elevator arrived, Alex hurrying him as they went inside.

The music in the background was the usual elevator fare. Neal sighed, watching the floor numbers change as the elevator kept going until finally it stopped but not at the floor they wanted. The doors slid open, Neal looking to see two honest brown eyes staring back at him blankly at first then with some recognition.

"Are you going dow… Mr. Caffrey?"

Peter Burke was smiling at him with a surprised look, his eyes moving from Neal to the woman beside him, Alex nodding with a coy glance.

"I had no idea you had offices in this building. I just found out my partnership had moved here. I guess that's why I was in the city. It's my first day back at work and now I'm going to meet my wife at the party below… wait. You were painting that canvas of the _Chrysler_ Building. Of course… I should have remembered that. Congratulations! I'm glad I was able to get a sneak peek at the piece. You're a very lucky man."

Peter had stepped into the elevator, the door closing behind him as he shook Neal's hand. He was looking at Alex a moment before glancing back at Neal nothing in his manner suspecting anything awry. Suddenly the elevator started up again, moving towards the top floor as Peter turned and sighed.

"I guess I can follow you up and then go back to the lobby. So, who's this beautiful woman beside you?"

Neal was surprised that Alex wasn't being more obvious as she smiled in an almost friendly manner, holding out her hand.

"Just a friend. Neal, this is our floor."

Alex pushed the button for the 2nd to last floor, Peter giving him a curious look but acting more like he was interested in chit chatting then anything else. He put a friendly hand on Neal's shoulder, squeezing ever so slightly before the doors opened on the next floor. Alex grabbed Neal by the arm and pulled him out.

"It was nice to meet you, Peter. Come on Neal, we have that thing to do before you can go back to the party."

Her voice was ominous despite trying to hide what they were up to. Peter just watched them with what seemed innocent curiosity before the door shut again and it was just Neal and Alex. He suddenly felt vulnerable.

"The office is just around the corner here. Help me, then our deal is over."

She had planned this perfectly, Neal trapped for the moment. He glanced around, cameras everywhere. Did they see them get off the elevator? Was there footage of him here with Alex? They snuck around the corner, an office he didn't recognize with no name on it. She smiled, pulling something out of her small handbag that looked like lock picks. Neal watched as she got them into the place in only a few minutes. He had played at being a magician when he was younger, his knack for getting out handcuffs not something he shared with everyone but this woman had skills. He shouldn't be impressed but he was, both slipping inside the office. It was dark but she turned on a small desk lamp revealing a comfy leather office chair, a large cherry desk and a painting he never thought he'd see up close again.

"St. George… you… _You're_ Alex Hunter?"

Suddenly it all made sense, his memory going back to the day he met Sara. She had been looking for someone named Alex and this was the same person. He noticed she was already on a chair removing the picture from the frame with a small scalpel and rolling it up. He felt sick watching her careful yet thorough work. She was obviously an expert thief and now he was an accomplice, following in shock as she hissed at him to go. They left the office, locking it back up and headed towards the stairs. He was still stunned at her boldness, barely noticing how close she was, one hand caressing his cheek as he came back to himself and saw her smile.

"I guess you did remember me after all."

She was about to kiss him when someone stepped around the corner surprising them both. Neal blinked, uncertain what to expect as brown eyes met his.

"Peter?"

The man was looking at him curiously, an almost fatherly disappointment on his face as he tried to explain. How could he in sight of the glaring facts or false ones. It was just the three of them, the floor empty at this time of day.

"It's not what you think…"

He was about to say more when Alex pulled out a gun, the rolled up painting still under her arm as she moved towards the stairs waving them back. There was a hint of panic in her eyes, hidden beneath the sly smile on her face. Nobody moved for a moment and she took advantage of that fact.

"I guess this is where we say goodbye, Neal. You're as much involved with this crime as I am… The footage I have will say so if you try to turn me in. Now… nobody follows me and everyone stays bullet free."

Alex pushed the door open to the stairs but paused, everyone turning as the ding of the elevator became obvious. It was the perfect distraction, Peter moving to grab her. Apparently the man understood he wasn't cheating but now a new situation was forming. Neal watched in horror as her hand pulled on the trigger… There was a loud pop as the gun went off. The elevator doors stayed open only a moment showing them nobody was in the car as the doors shut once more.

"I… We could have done this the easy way..."

Alex held the gun on Peter, smoke spiraling upwards from the barrel. There was regret in her eyes, hands shaking slightly, but not enough to stick around as she ducked down towards the stairs quickly. Once the door shut Neal sensed something wrong, looking down to see a large wet stain coming through his tux. He opened his jacket and vest and saw the stain was red, growing through the white of his starched shirt as he collapsed to his knees and then the floor. There was a tightness in his chest, a throbbing in his temples but someone caught him, holding him close as they spoke quietly. He barely remembered what had happened, only realizing now he had moved to block something. The scent of gunpowder was still in the air, burning at his nose as he gave a weak cough and sputter, something wet in his lungs. There was a taste like copper in his throat.

"9-1-1… yes. Someone was just shot. We're on the 70th floor of the Chrysler building… yes I said the Chrysler building by the staircase. Hang on, Neal…"

The pain in his chest was increasing, Peter's voice a buzz now as he started to pass out. He was losing too much blood, the room spinning all the while his eyes on Peter talking on the phone as the scenery changed from the building hallway to another place, a hazy scene with smoking debris around him as he tried to sit up and found himself pushed back, his chest tight. He wanted to speak but couldn't, eyes looking up to see that another figure sat beside him, a man with dark skin and a concerned expression on his face.

"Caffrey… Caffrey hang in there… _Caffrey..._"


	7. Chapter 7

**(Chapter 7)**

Everything was blackness, his mind blank but he was aware of the fact even if he could do little about it.

_It's been a week. The doctor said…_

_Hun… we have to be patient._

There were voices speaking softly in the background, beyond the darkness but he couldn't respond. He was trying to remember what had brought him here much more, why he was wherever _here_ was.

_He pushed me out of the way of the blast. I told him to stay in the car but he never listens..._

The voice speaking now was angry, hurt and sad, the emotions coming out more menacing than the voice normally sounded or so his mind told him. He wondered who they were talking about as he continued to listen passively, no sense of self in this dark place.

_Don't think about it. It's over. You're both safe. That's all that matters. Just concentrate on Neal, Peter. He needs you. For once I'm glad he didn't listen to you._

_Neal? Peter?_

He tried to think how he knew these names, recognition evident as he felt himself starting to come to. There was something in those names that sparked a light in the darkness. It was distant now but growing brighter as he concentrated on the names.

_He was Neal. Neal Caffrey_.

The thought materialized making the light blink slightly as he started to mull the name more.

_He was a renown artist. No. He was.. a criminal. An infamous con man._

If he could nod, he would have, the light blinking in response as if to nod for him. He was remembering now. It was starting to come back to him as the light grew large enough to envelope him.

He was Neal Caffrey, con man and CI. His partner was Peter Burke, FBI. The dream he'd had about another life was fading and a memory of fire and smoke replaced it as he started to draw consciousness…

**()()()**

"Hey buddy."

The voice made him turn, his eyes having been staring out the partially opened window to his right. Now he was gazing into two honest brown eyes, a slightly dark ring around them as if they were lacking sleep. He could only imagine what his friend was thinking as he smiled tiredly back. Peter seemed to relax once he had, taking a seat beside him on the left and gently patting him on the shoulder. Neal shifted slightly, the aches of his body now more evident but it was better than the alternative. His memories were still fuzzy confused between dreams and reality as he gazed at his friend then up at the ceiling.

"_Renoir_ for your thoughts?"

Peter's words brought his eyes back to his friend's face, the look there obviously worried with unsaid questions and comments the agent was holding back for obvious reasons. Neal remembered the voices talking and realized what it might be Peter wanted to ask, or even yell at him about, but right now was not the time and for reasons, he probably wouldn't tell him. Peter was like that. They both were.

"Real or fake?"

He gave a wry grin, seeing a smile on the agent's face. For the first time he noticed his friend had one arm in a sling under his jacket and he looked haggard. They were both a sight to see he imagined as his memories of what really happened returned. He'd had time to think things through since he'd woken up from his sleep, but not everything had come back to him yet.

"For now, you'll have to settle for fake. So… how are you feeling? Doctors said you woke up sooner than they expected. Glad they finally allowed visitors so I could be sure you're ok."

The agent was mincing words, his expression one of walking on eggshells when he didn't normally do that. Perhaps it was because of the reason why they were both alive. Neal heard their words while he was unconscious and it was hard to reconcile with what he remembered. Had he really saved Peter? He seemed to remember it being the other way around but there was no gunshot wound and he hadn't seen or heard from his Alex in over a year. In that case it left only one choice for him to believe as he replied.

"I've felt better. I seem to recall… being in the car and you phoned me? I wouldn't have showed up otherwise."

**()()()**

Now he was remembering why he had gone to the warehouse. Peter went to talk to a witness, one afraid to testify against the Tartino family. Mario Tartino had put a hit on Greg Dawson and he had tried to take care of it himself until Peter had showed up unexpectedly. Neal had waited in the car for once, thinking it would be a simple chat. Normally he would go with Peter but today he had conceded to stay until that moment he felt his cell phone buzz in his jacket pocket. It was Peter. Maybe the agent wanted him along after all?

"What's taking so long Peter? Peter?"

The agent was calling him but now he realized maybe the phone had turned on accidentally as he heard _voices_ at a distance speaking.

"_You shouldn't be here, Agent Burke. I'm taking care of this myself, once and for all. I'm expecting Mario's men here any moment_."

Neal listened in horror as he realized what was going on, ready to get out of the car when he ducked down seeing another vehicle drive up. He peeked up only long enough to see that it was Mario's men_._

"Peter? Peter can you hear me? Peter?!"

_Dammit_! He had to warn Peter but apparently the agent hadn't meant to call or couldn't reply or he would be answering back. With the mobsters outside only a few yards away, he was going to have to be creative, looking around for another way out as he quietly exited the vehicle. Neal slipped around the back and then loped along the edge of the warehouse. He found a loose board at some point and slipped inside, hearing voices not too far off as they echoed off the old beams and dusty structure.

_This isn't you, Dawson. Please… we can discuss this. I have people who can protect you and put you in hiding._

Peter's voice was evident as he came up from behind some old boxes and peered around to see the agent from behind and a short dark haired man just beyond staring up at him. The little guy was Greg Dawson, a local store owner who'd had enough of helping the mob against his will. He'd been threatened, as had his family, when he attempted to quit. Dawson had been more than willing to help the authorities until his family died in a freak car accident a few weeks ago. It was reported as a normal fatality but he was certain Mario had his men mess with the brakes causing their deaths. Anger and grief made their witness run away from the FBI offices, an APB looking for him, but Peter had found him, trying to convince him to testify. Dawson didn't want to comply.

_Look what trying to do the right thing did: My family is dead, Agent Burke! I don't blame you for what happened but you have to understand my situation. I suggest you leave now._

Neal was watching, about to approach but something about the agent's manner made him think something else was going on as he moved around for a better perspective. He shifted left of the boxes as quietly as he could in the gloom before he saw it. Now he could understand Peter's hands being up but it wasn't due to a gun but something far more sinister. Dawson was wearing a full body explosive pack like a suicide bomber, his right hand holding the dead man switch tightly. If Mario's men came in now they would all be dead.

Watching the scene, he was reminded of his own attempt to get rid of Agent Fowler to revenge Kate's death. Peter had managed to calm him down, convince him to do the right thing but this man was far beyond any help. That's when he made his decision and slowly came out into the open. Dawson's eyes went from the agent to Neal, his trigger finger twitching. Peter slowly turned, seeing him, brown eyes shocked one moment, angry only a second before motioning him away, fear evident. He shook his head unable to leave his friend with this maniac alone. Perhaps he could convince him.

"You think you're the only person who's lost someone? I was in your situation once and Peter talked me out of the biggest mistake I would have made in my life. Someone blew up the person I loved."

Neal paused, seeing he had Greg's sympathy. Maybe he could talk him out of killing himself. He had to try for Peter's sake.

"Revenge isn't the answer, Greg. You don't want to take innocent lives like your wife and son. Peter's here to help and so am I. Mario's men are outside. We can all get out of here without them knowing. Trust us."

He was hoping to convince the man to at least disarm the device and go with them but voices near the right of the building made the man more jumpy.

"No, he can't get away with this! If I have to I will take his men with me but you don't have to stay. Go. You can't convince me to stop this!"

Peter looked like he was still debating, his conscience not wanting to let an innocent man kill himself for something he thought he could fix and that was about to get them all dead if Neal couldn't get him to leave. He reached out for Peter's arm, brown eyes meeting his with a palpable fear.

"_Why are you here Neal? I told you to stay in the car…_"

The agent was hissing at him like a father to an errant child, frustration evident as he looked back at Dawson and then over to the right where the large door was rattling as several men tried to open it up. They had little time to get away with one man trying to blow himself up and armed hit men trying to break inside. If he could just get Peter to go...

"_You phoned me…_"

He pulled the phone out of his friend's back pocket and Peter blinked seeing it was actively in the middle of call to _Neal Caffrey_. He hung it up, pushing it into his jacket as his attention went back to their witness.

Neal kept his hand protectively on Peter's sleeve, about to speak when he noticed something odd. The bomb Dawson wore looked wrong. The explosives upon further inspection were lumps of art clay, a brand sold cheaply at any hobby store. The bomb was a fake! It was all so obvious now that he had a moment to think things through. Neal had to let Peter know, tugging on his sleeve for the agent's attention when he noticed how Greg was watching the front door. Peter was looking at him now, a quizzical look on his face as the con suddenly realized their mistake in believing Dawson's story. Their witness was not armed as they thought but the warehouse entrance definitely was, small LED's blinking in succession one by one as the door started to open. He only had a moment to act as he moved between Peter and the door and pushed him towards the boxes he had been hiding behind earlier. It wasn't enough time though as the blast tore through the building obliterating his view of Dawson, the mobsters and anything else as they were buried beneath steel beams and shattered remains of boxes.

Slowly his thoughts came back to the present, Peter staring at him thoughtfully as his cheeks seemed to flush pink. Maybe he was thinking about the incident as well.

"I did phone you didn't I… well my pocket did. Probably a good thing you didn't go in the front entrance. How did you get into the warehouse, Neal? You never did tell me and Jones said the only entrance inside was the one Mario's men used. We've been trying to reconcile the facts with the figures. There's not much building left to find."

He seemed to be relaxing a bit, less afraid to talk about what happened as Neal shifted slightly to sit up, Peter helping him. Once he was comfortable he reached over with his good hand and grabbed a small cup of water on the nightstand. His throat felt dry and rough although that might be after effects of the blast and his week asleep. Peter was patient, helping him with the cup when he couldn't get it back.

"There was a loose board around the back of the building. I saw Mario's men coming around the right and since you _butt dialed_ me, I had to try to be creative in warning you what was coming."

He watched his friend smirk at him slightly, leaning back in the chair and nodding. Peter gave a sigh, a sound that seemed to sum up everything they had gone through in one breath, no words necessary. It had been a traumatic experience to say the least.

"Dawson lied to us you know. Forensics came back…"

Peter was about to say more but Neal interrupted.

"He wasn't really armed. I couldn't see it at first but maybe it was the adrenaline from thinking about my life and how to get out alive that showed me the truth. I saw the lights by the entrance Mario's men were battering down. His suit was a decoy in case they got in another way I guess. Maybe he knew about the loose board."

Neal had barely spoken when Peter sat up straight and stared right at him with a curious glance before giving a tired but honest laugh.

"So that's why you pushed me towards the boxes. I couldn't understand your logic at the time but I'm glad you saw through his ruse. The bomb squad said those boxes are the only things that kept us alive. They found us under several layers of palettes protected from the worse of the blast."

Peter mussed his hair slightly, Neal putting up with it as he sighed and smiled patiently back. The agent was giving him a look, one that he had seen only a few times before when his friend was surprised by his ingenuity. He liked knowing he could be smarter than the other guy but in this case it had been a case of survival. He didn't require any credit when he had done it without thought for himself.

"Now, you said your life flashed before your eyes. I can't say I didn't have some last minute thoughts. What did you see and would I approve?"

Now he was trying to lighten the mood, Neal glad for the change in conversation as he tried to think back to right before he came to. Only a few flashes of insight came back to him, one making his heart ache ever so slightly but he faked a smile and shrugged.

"Nothing actually. Just the usual. Past heists I wish I'd done better or things I stole that I wish I had kept instead of selling…"

He smirked as he saw the look on his friend's face followed by a fatherly sigh. Maybe he knew Neal was pulling his leg, but it was hard to tell as the agent shook his head, stood and stretched.

"Fine… don't tell me. Anyhow, El's probably back and I promised I'd meet her for lunch. She wanted to bring you some items from June's so you'll see us later today. The doctors have our number if you need anything. They said you're doing well enough you might be out of here in a week."

There was a curious look on Peter's face but then it passed and he smiled a bit more broadly.

"FYI, Mozzie stayed with El while they were digging us out. She said he kept her sane. She knows more than she ever wanted on conspiracies thanks to him but it helped her. I haven't had a chance to talk to him yet but if you see him tell him thanks for me."

Peter patted him on the arm gently before leaving the room, the con alone for the first time in a while since he woke up. This had been the first day he had been allowed visitors since waking up. Now that he had been able to talk to Peter, he felt better. It had been 3 days since he woke up and now he was considered in the safe zone, the only people he had seen were doctors and nurses. They were nice but seeing Peter had helped his morale and reminded him of the strange dreams he's had while unconscious. The images were vague at best but he was certain his friend had been there.

**()()()**

Just over a week passed and Neal was back home, Mozzie and June treating him like something that might break. He finally got up to his room despite all their pampering. He was still hurting, so he took his pain pills with a large glass of water while Moz casually sipped some wine. They started chatting, Neal mentioning what Peter said about El.

"So the Suit wanted to thank me for being with Elizabeth?"

Mozzie seemed surprised but it was obvious he had been worried about them just as much as El. It was hard for his friend to speak his mind when it came to emotional stuff but he was getting better.

"Yes. Thanks. Theo…"

It had just came out that way but for some reason it felt right suddenly, an image of his friend looking different but the same, the con replaced with a more respectable version he had never seen before. Mozzie seemed surprised, blinking back at him over his glass of wine.

"Theo? Since when do you call me that? Are you sure that hit to your head is better?"

Mozzie started pontificating on head injuries and traumas but all Neal wanted was to lay down and rest. June had promised to bring him something to eat later, the con scratching at his arm in the sling as he lay on his bed and started to close his eyes. Mozzie was still talking as he felt the meds kick in and his body became relaxed, his mind easing into the fantasy he had left a week before.

_Neal was stepping off the elevator onto the first floor of the Chrysler building, his eyes scanning the gala crowd for a certain someone. Suddenly he saw a red dress, the figure svelte and beautiful as she turned and their eyes met._

"_Neal… I was starting to worry you weren't coming back."_

_She was teasing him of course but something in those words made his heart ache. Perhaps it was just a dream but he had unfinished business before he could let it go._

"_Dance with me?"_

_He pulled her close, their hips touching as he eased her out into a small crowd of dancing couples. The band was playing a song they both liked, something old but updated to a more jazzy beat. Sara was smiling at him, giving him a look that made him think she knew what he wanted to ask._

"_You seem… different. Tell me what's on your mind, Neal."_

_They continued to dance as he glanced quickly around the room. Peter and Jill were at one end but now she was standing beside another man, the CPA talking to Elizabeth at the caterer's table. The story had changed now that he was more aware of the narrative. The only thing that hadn't changed was Theo and Sally. They were off in a corner kissing, a slight flush of his cheeks as he smiled at the thought of his friend settled down and happy. Sara's hand gently grasped his chin, looking at him as their eyes met with an inquisitive glance._

"_I was thinking… why wait for the holidays? Let's get married now. After the event."_

_It was a bold statement and he saw how much it caught her off guard, the flush now on her cheeks as he grinned. Sara looked surprised but mostly happy._

"_Now? Tonight?"_

_They were whispering, his head nodding back at her with his own wide grin._

"_Yes… we can drive down to Virginia. Theo and Sally could be witnesses…"_

_He had it all planned out, the two of them going for their honeymoon early and then doing the official wedding and reception later. Everyone would understand. Sara hesitated only a second but finally nodded in return._

"_Yes… my family will understand. We are still having a wedding, right?"_

_She was laughing now, giddy with joy as he picked her up just enough to swing her around._

"_Of course. So… Ms. Ellis… will you be my wife?"_

**()()()**

He woke up a few hours later to silence, broken only by a soft snore of someone nearby as he wiped a warm wetness from his eyes. He saw Mozzie had passed out on the couch, the glass of wine on the coffee table. The light outside was lower in the sky indicating late afternoon as he sat up and stretched, slipping his feet over the side of the bed and padding softly past his sleeping friend and the kitchenette into a side door and hallway. Neal pulled out a box from one of the shelves in his closet, opening it up with a smile as he took a single picture from within. It was one of his favorites, a shot of Sara and himself at the Empire State building. He pushed aside any thoughts of James, Senator Pratt and all over negative memories from that time and only concentrated on how he'd felt with her. He had proposed, mainly a ruse to get them up to the top level but also to let Sara know how he felt. For a very long time he had given up on getting close to anyone and she had been the first woman he'd ever gotten close to proposing to after Kate's death. He had meant every word, both of them knowing it would never be but he had to try.

"Neal?"

Mozzie was standing outside the closet door, watching him silently as he put the box aside and took the picture with him. They didn't speak as the little guy followed, Neal deep in thought as he placed the picture on the dining table and moved to the sink to pour himself a glass of water. He took one sip and realized he needed something stronger, Mozzie already anticipating his thoughts it seemed as he passed him a glass of wine. Neal leaned against the sink, eyes on his glass, his face thoughtful.

"I was just thinking. What if… we weren't con men?"

Neal left the words floating in the silence a moment, Mozzie giving him a quizzical look before replying.

"Not con men? Inconceivable… well to me at least. So what would we be?"

Now he was asking all the right questions, Neal smiling as he looked at the picture and remembered his dream. Mozzie seemed to be seriously considering the idea. There might be hope for them yet.

"I probably would have been an artist not that I don't like conning but creating things would be fun."

He looked at his friend, Mozzie giving him a nod as he leaned on a chair and sipped his wine.

"I would have liked to stay with Mr. Jeffries… maybe help out with the orphanage. I'm good with numbers and getting funds."

The little guy was smiling now, Neal returning it as he sipped his own glass and sighed.

"I know you say, marriage and picket fences aren't for guys like us but do you ever think… well, maybe you might have liked to settle down with Sally. You two seemed to have something going on there before we left for Cape Verde."

Maybe he was pushing it, Mozzie's expression at first shocked then toned down as he shrugged and gave a half nod. He knew his friend was lonely even if he never said it.

"I do still _technically_ have her number up here."

He pointed at his temple with one finger tapping it lightly before he walked away as if deep in thought. Neal waited, knowing his friend was about to say more.

"I do keep up with her on IRC when I can and sometimes… I have met her a few times for coffee. What? She keeps me up to date on the hacker side of things. No personal entanglements."

This surprised Neal, the look of someone who was glad to have the secret out on Mozzie's face even if he was denying it. He saw Mozzie in a new light even if it was based off an alternative life they never lived. It had felt… _real_. Right about then his cell buzzed, Neal walking over towards the nightstand where he'd left it. He blinked when he saw the name on his caller ID.

"Hello?"

His tone must have shown more than he meant to, Mozzie turning to look at him curiously as he waited for the caller to reply.

"_Neal? Can you hear me? I… (Thank you… yes, 5 PM) Sorry… I'm at the airport. Heathrow. How are you?_"

He was surprised to hear her voice after so many months, nothing changed in it except a tiredness he didn't remember hearing before. He sat on the edge of his bed as he replied.

"Sara? Yes, I can hear you just fine. Heathrow? After another art thief? I thought what we had was special."

He said the last part facetiously, the sound of her laughter ringing back as he smiled and relaxed. Mozzie was still watching him curiously, mouthing "Who is that?" at him. Neal held up a hand for him to leave him alone, the little guy continuing to listen in from a distance.

"_We'll always have St George, Neal but that's not what I was calling about. I'm… (Yes… of course.) We're boarding and I need to hang up but I wanted to let you know… I'm going to be in New York for Christmas._"

Neal was smiling now, nodding back as he thought of how to reply back. They had left on good terms, knowing they couldn't reconcile certain aspects for the others. He would always be a con and Sara's sense of right and wrong made it hard for her to deal with that. He could never blame Mozzie and the treasure completely for what had happened between them. It had been his decision to keep it from everyone, Sara being the first person to discover he had it. She had never let anyone know, not even Peter. It was one of the few things he regretted. Sara had lied for him against her better judgment and it bothered him every time he thought about what could have been.

"Great. Maybe we can get together for a drink."

He said it matter of factly, thinking about his 2 mile radius. For a moment he was silent, words escaping him but Sara didn't seem to sense his hesitation, voices in the background speaking close by.

"_Sounds great Neal. I'm only going to be in town for a few days. Business with the local office but we __should__ get together. Tell Peter I said Hi. I need to hang up before the stewardess takes my phone. I'll see you soon. Goodbye, Neal._"

The cell beeped, indicating the call had ended, Neal holding it to his ear only a minute longer before pulling it away. Sara sounded like she wanted to talk to him unless he was reading more into her call. Why else would she have phone him? It was nearly Christmas, only a few more days. El and Peter had invited him over for a party, Mozzie too. June was going to visit with her granddaughters so he would be alone if not for the Burkes and Mozz. A part of him wanted to hide out but after hearing from Sara, his chest was hurting for other reasons, hope finding a small flare in his uncertainty.

"Earth to Neal… Was that Sara?"

There was a hint of curiosity in his friend's voice as he nodded, putting the phone back on the nightstand as he stood and walked over to the kitchenette again, pouring himself a larger portion of wine than before. Mozzie watched him without a word, for once knowing when not to talk.


	8. Chapter 8

**(Chapter 8)**

Christmas eve arrived, Neal moping a bit but his arm was now out of the sling at least. It still bothered him, especially near the shoulder so he wore the sling as needed. Peter was in the same boat, an obvious limp still present when he arrived at their home with Mozzie in tow. Sara hadn't called him or showed up at his place after her initial call so he figured her business had kept her away, not wanting to think she didn't want to see him. Maybe it was pride but Neal hadn't called the insurance investigator back hoping in the back of his mind for something more than he deserved. Perhaps he had read more into her words. When it came to love, his luck ran out more times than he liked to count.

"Neal? Merry Christmas, sweetie."

El gave him a hug, kissing his cheek as he faked a smile for her and Peter. Nobody seemed to realize he was feeling moody, memories of what he had dreamed while unconscious coming back to him. Especially those memories where had had been engaged to Sara. He knew they weren't a couple any more and so much had happened between her leaving for London and Keller taking credit for the steal that perhaps it was best to leave it as the fond memory it was. He heard a cough and looked up to see Peter was standing there, dressed in a dark blue cashmere sweater, something nicer than the agent normally wore. Probably a gift from Elizabeth but still a great shirt if his friend didn't squirm in it slightly as he seemed to be.

"Nice shirt, Peter. Cashmere?"

He was trying to lighten the mood, hide the fact Peter was probably about to confront him on his feelings. The agent nodded, smiling at his wife when she turned from Mozzie to look at them, but scratching slightly at the shirt sleeves when she turned away.

"Little itchier than I expected. Maybe I should have put a tee underneath. How are you… doing?"

The agent had stopped playing with the sweater for a moment, Elizabeth giving him a look as she walked over with a tray of what looked to be eggnog. Mozzie was already holding his glass, while the rest of them took theirs. El put the tray aside, one glass still on it as she held up hers with a bright smile.

"A Christmas toast…"

She was waiting for everyone to raise their glasses up as they stood there, Neal's attention turning from the tray to join in when the doorbell rang. Peter looked surprised, Elizabeth making eyes at him as if to say, "_answer it_" and Peter mouthing a surprised, "_ok_" before excusing himself somewhat sheepishly towards the front door. Mozzie looked impatient to make a toast, his attention on his drink as he moved to sip it then didn't, babbling about various toasts from past years. El was looking at Neal, but also over her shoulder with a glance that made him think something was about to happen.

"Hey…"

Peter's voice carried over to them but it was the next one that made Neal turn around.

"I apologize for being late. Mr. Bosch insisted on taking everyone out for a drink. It was all I could do, short of being rude to excuse mys… Neal."

Sara stood in the doorway beside Peter, her brown eyes flashing curiously towards the con as he nodded back with a whispered reply. Everyone was silent for a moment before Mozzie piped in.

"I didn't hear what you said, Neal. Speak up!"

The comment was typical Mozzie, Elizabeth shushing him like a child. Neal didn't seem to notice, moving in one smooth motion as he picked up the extra glass and walked towards the entrance. Sara smiled, taking the glass as she finished hanging up her coat and placed her purse on the table.

"Thanks. Merry Christmas."

She was looking straight into his eyes, no malice or hard feelings in her expression as he felt himself smile back.

"Merry Christmas…"

There was another moment of silence, not too much but enough that Peter coughed, which was enough to get Elizabeth started on the toast again.

"Sara, you're just in time. We were about to make a toast. Dinner's almost ready so I thought what better time to say what we're thankful for. Hun, why don't you start?"

She was holding her glass up, looking around as Peter raised his next, then Sara as she stood near Neal who lifted his with Mozzie happily doing the same.

"A toast to good friends, family and surviv… uhm, celebrating another Christmas in reasonable health."

El gave him a look, Peter's cheeks flushing only a bit as his wife kissed him with a wry smile. Considering everything that had happened, the past few weeks had been hectic for everyone, Elizabeth hugging her husband with her free hand before she took her turn.

"The same as my loving husband so eloquently said but with the addition of being thankful for blessings from business and opportunities to come."

She nodded at Neal who was next, the con uncertain what to say as he glanced over at Sara and felt a slight warmth of his cheeks as if he were blushing.

"To friends and family, close and far."

He smiled slightly seeing Sara looking a bit nervous as her turn came up. It was obvious she hadn't expected to make a speech but they were all family and friends here.

"To closing old doors and opening new ones."

She shrugged slightly, Neal intrigued by her comment. The only person left to cheer was Mozzie who could barely contain himself it seemed as he spoke.

"To everything said before me and the future freedom of my friend, let us partake of this ambrosial nectar. Cheers! Amen! Salud! Salut! Kampai!"

The sentiment towards his soon to be future was nice, eliciting a cheer from all but everyone rolled their eyes at Mozzie's silliness at the end. The speeches over, they were now sipping on eggnog as everyone started to mingle. Elizabeth pulled Peter over to the kitchen a moment, leaving Neal with Sara as Mozzie leaned over a particularly nice _bric a brac_ on the Burke's bookshelf. The little guy was distracted for once but Sara seemed less than herself, possibly jet lag if Neal had to guess.

"Catch any art thieves lately?"

He was trying to make chit chat, his mind imagining her in the red dress for a moment from his dream.

"Uhm, no. Mr. Bosch was helping me with my reassignment."

She sounded distracted a moment before her eyes looked into his almost guiltily. There was something she wasn't saying but they were just friends now if anything so it wasn't really his business to pry.

"Oh. London too metropolitan?"

He was teasing now, thinking of their last words at the Empire State Building. It had not been a good day for any of them, particularly Peter but it was in the past. He had a year left on his anklet and was doing his best not to screw it up. Sara glanced at him and smiled slightly, something that made him hopeful.

"It just wasn't home. I'm actually asking for an assignment here in New York."

She was definitely smiling now, Neal about to answer when Mozzie butted in.

"Did I hear correctly? You're coming _BACK_ to New York?"

The little guy didn't seem all that elated even if he did sort of like Sara. She was still not one of them, a con, but he approved of her in other ways. They would still probably just be friends but it was nice to know she might be back in the city.

"Great. We could celebrate. I'm sure Peter… well, you know."

He was going to say _change his radius_ but stopped himself, the look between them slightly awkward when it came to his current incarceration. Sara had no problems with him but she knew his past with the treasure among other things. The Empire State Building "con" had been more for Peter's benefit than his to get at Senator Pratt, but he had hoped in a naive way Sara had come back for him. Perhaps it was vanity.

"Neal…"

She looked desperate to tell him something when someone knocked on the door suddenly, interrupting her next words. Mozzie moved towards the door and opened it up. They both turned to see a tall man, dark brown hair cropped short with a look of confusion at all of them until he saw Sara. Mozzie was trying to interrogate the young man, who was dressed in a suit cut in a European style he recognized. The raucousness of Mozzie attracted Peter and El came out of the kitchen at that point, peeking around the corner curiously.

"Mozzie… I apologize… I'm Peter Burke. This is my home. How may I help you?"

Peter had taken over the situation, giving the little guy a glare that made him move aside but not stop muttering about uninvited guests under his breath. Sara was walking towards their new guest, her manner familiar with them as Neal tried to figure out who the man was.

"Andre… I thought you had a meeting."

Sara address the man directly, his voice glad to see her as he babbled quickly in French what sounded like an apology. Peter looked perplex, El intrigued and Mozzie annoyed. Neal felt something else as he eavesdropped.

"Sorry, I forget to speak English. I did have a… meeting. It ended early and I remembered the address you spoke of here. My apologies for… crashing your party. Is that the right phrase?"

He was polite and charming, El taking a liking to him it seemed as she nodded then shook her head.

"Any friend of Sara's is a friend of ours. We have plenty to share if you're hungry. We were just about to start."

El didn't hesitate to welcome the newcomer, looking at Peter who took the young man's coat and hung it up on the rack by the door. Mozzie hovered around trying to figure out who their new guest was but Neal was pretty sure he knew. Andre immediately leaned over and kissed Sara on the cheek, the affection returned with a kiss on the lips. El and Peter seemed surprised, both giving Neal a quick look as he put on his best blase look. He wasn't going to give anyone the satisfaction.

"Let's sit down. Hun, grab another chair for Andre…"

**()()()**

The dinner was awkward at best although everyone tried to hide it, only their unexpected guest comfortable it seemed. Sara and Andre left early, Neal staring out the window as he watched them leave. It was a brief indication of any interest in the situation, no words spoken as Mozzie started to mutter about this and that. After the car left, Elizabeth and Peter came back inside, both looking his way before quietly whispering. Elizabeth convinced Mozzie to help her in the kitchen while Peter walked over and sat down with him. The agent put a hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently to get his attention.

"You ok? You were rather quiet tonight except when it came to Andre."

Peter was giving him that _big brotherly_ look of concern, something he wasn't sure he was ready to admit he needed. The past month had been hectic, the case with Dawson bringing it to an explosive end before the calm of the holidays which were anything but with Sara's reappearance. The more he thought about that other life he had wished for in his comatose dream, the less he could deal with seeing Sara.

"I'm fine. Thinking I might head out myself."

He was going to make an excuse about his injuries bothering him, which they still did, but he left that part out. Neal tried to stand up but Peter gently sat him back down again, a look of apology in his friend's eyes.

"We thought… Sara had called to say she was in town. I'm sorry, Neal. The evening didn't go as planned."

It was obvious they had thought Sara was single as he did, hoping with past experience… His friends had meant well even if he was feeling miserable. For a con man he was pretty naive, his heart on his sleeve but that was just Neal.

"It's ok, Peter. I should tell Elizabeth goodbye…"

He stood up this time without interference from his friend, Peter looking at him with that guilty look still. Neal didn't blame them for what he should have seen coming. Why wouldn't she have a new beau. The guy had seemed nice enough. Peter was standing nearby, stretching some before he spoke.

"Neal, why don't you stay here tonight. The guest room is made up. El was going to make pancakes in the morning and French toast. What do you say?"

His friend was trying to soothe him but Neal wanted to wallow a bit, about to say no when El walked in with Mozzie, both carrying trays with coffee and what looked like pie. The little guy was already eating some of his.

"You have to try this pie, Neal. There's no comparison."

Mozzie's words made El smile, the pie obviously her handiwork as he politely nodded then shook his head.

"I was actually about to go. Save me a slice?"

Neal was trying to be coy about his reasons for going, Peter giving El a look as they obviously decided to let him be, but Mozzie in his infinite wisdom had to pipe in.

"Go? June's not home and I'm here. Is this about Sara?"

The topic was out there now, the awkwardness back as Neal excused himself quietly again, grabbing up his coat and scarf and letting himself out before anyone could do anything. He wanted to smack Mozzie but it was not his fault, just frustration making him feel that way. It was snowing as he walked down the street looking for a cab. Being alone would be the best thing at the moment. Yes. He just needed to be alone.

"Neal!"

He paused, turning back to see someone running towards him. It was Peter, the agent's breath evident in the street lamp's glow.

"You left before I could offer you a ride back. Least I could do."

His friend pointed at the car a few yards back, Neal reluctantly agreeing as they walked back towards the Burke home. He helped clear off the snow, Peter warming up the car as they were doing that. They ducked into the warmth inside and sat a moment in silence, Neal staring out the window at the falling flakes. He had found the mysterious man on his doorstep on a night like this in his dream. The man had ended up being Peter but he still didn't understand the why of it.

"I haven't told El this… When were were trapped under the rubble, I had a strange dream. It was about that _Black Widow_ case. Ends up I had to divorce Elizabeth and marry our suspect for my cover. We were both miserable, but you were my best man and Mozzie presided over the ceremony which was the only thing that kept it from being legal."

He laughed nervously, tension obvious even if this was meant to alleviate it. Neal looked at his friend a bit more closely, wondering if he should confess about his own strange dreams.

"Odd. It's up to you if you want to admit to wanting to secretly marry a woman who wanted to kill you, Peter. None of my business."

He was trying to be funny but came across as sarcastic, Peter shrugging.

"Well, I woke up because she stabbed me on our honeymoon. When I came to, I realized it wasn't a knife stabbing me but a dislocated shoulder. I was a little confused at first but the realization it had been a dream comforted me."

He looked a little sheepish but also guilty, Neal trying to figure out how someone as smart as Peter could get so upset over a dream. Suddenly it occurred how he had been acting since the accident.

"Neal? I know something's eating you and I won't force you to tell me but just know that I'm here if you need an ear to bend. Ok?"

Peter started to pull on his seat belt, the wipers quietly swishing in the background as they sat there in the darkness. The agent was reaching to change gears when Neal reached out and stopped him. Brown eyes questioned his only a moment before a silent consensus was made and they were out of the car and walking back up into the warmth of the Burke home. Mozzie was talking about some nonsense, something about hybrid vehicles and UFO technology when Elizabeth interrupted.

"Hun… Neal?"

Peter had walked in first, removing his coat, scarf and gloves as Neal did the same and El seemed to quietly accept their return without comment.

"I saved a piece of pie for you, Neal. Let me warm it up."

El acted like they'd never left as she went towards the kitchen, Peter heading upstairs as Neal continued to stand in the entrance way. Mozzie was looking at him.

"Did you forget something?"

Mozzie's comment was irritating after the earlier one, Neal shaking his head as he headed upstairs without a word. He had decided to come back despite his better judgment, heading down the 2nd floor hallway towards the bathroom when he saw Peter step out. It was now or never.

"Can we talk?"

**()()()**

Neal's dreams were a little better than evening. Mozzie had slept downstairs on the sofa much to Peter's better judgment but El had insisted. The agent muttered something about going over the house inventory in the morning before El shushed him, bringing down clean blankets for the little guy and another set for Neal upstairs in the guest room. He thought back to the chat he finally had with Peter. Maybe the incident with Dawson had scared him more than he wanted to admit, the dream he'd had a result of that fear. His subconscious tried to wipe his slate clean, giving him a memory of a life he never had; A life that he realized was out of his reach after seeing Sara.

Peter had looked thoughtful, his hand scratching his chin before he smiled in that fatherly way of his. The agent put him at ease when he needed someone to ground him and now was one of those times.

"Quite a dream, Neal. Sounds like something to think about when your anklet comes off. You know how much we appreciate your art and all the skills you use at the Bureau. I think you _could_ be that person you dreamed about. I'd definitely pay for a Neal Caffrey original."

The agent grinned, squeezing his shoulder gently as he stood and Neal followed, the two men heading back downstairs. They'd almost forgotten about Elizabeth and Mozzie. The con felt better as he took those last few steps down and sat with his friends. The dream was something to work towards, not compare his current life to. Peter was making him see that now, the holidays looking just a little bit better.

**(The End)**


End file.
